Behavior Analysis
by maki0202
Summary: AU An easy, breezy tale of Lizzie, a first year cadet at Quantico FBI Academy, who unwittingly meets Donnie Ressler, a third year cadet who also happens to be the top student of his year. These two highly competitive cadets cross paths, all unexpectedly, but amidst of their resistance, is love brewing after all? CH 10: The Encounter...RED makes a brief appearance!
1. Chapter 1: The Orientation

Author's Note: This story is totally AU but core characters (because I'm borrowing them) will stay true to character. But I've taken liberties with some details, and there are new characters. But the story truly belongs to Lizzie and Don, and for them alone.

I wanted to have a different kind of fun with these characters. All the stories seem to be about them "getting together", like will they or won't they. And I wanted to be bit more out there creatively, so I placed them in Quantico where they're both students in FBI academy.

. . . . . .

Chapter 1: The Orientation

"Hi, you must be Elizabeth. I'm Jane, nice to meet you. Come on in!"

A cheerful blond woman swung open the door with much energy and greeted Lizzie with a bright smile. Her light brown eyes lit up unassumingly, and her toothy smile gave an impression of a kind and tender spirit. The sight of her new roommate brought a huge wave of relief as Lizzie had already been feeling at the end of her wits all day, with all the traveling, registering for classes, and accepting the reality of leaving home and getting used to this new environment. Lizzie's life was about to change completely; she felt it in her heart, in her mind, and in just about every faculty of her being. And on top of her list of anxiety was just who she would be stuck with as her roommate of her double bed dorm room.

"Hi Jane, nice to meet you, too. Please call me Lizzie." She entered the dorm room and quickly scanned the inside. The room itself was quite big, with two single beds situated on the opposite walls, underneath the big windows on each wall. There was also a small desk, a dresser, and a closet next to each of the beds. It looked as though Jane had settled in completely, as her bed looked quite lived in with all its lavenders and creams. Lizzie also detected a faint waft of lavender scent in the air.

"Are you getting your stuff delivered?" Jane inquired while plopped on her bed.

"Yeah, my dad dropped them off downstairs." Lizzie replied while testing out her own bed. Not bad.

"Oh, your dad didn't want to come up?"

"No, we said our goodbyes downstairs. Plus I was with him all day, so I think both of us were ready to say goodbye." Lizzie looked out the window to check out the scenery, but that was a mere reflex movement to conceal the fact that she was actually lying. She knew that her dad left quickly because he himself couldn't bear saying goodbye to her. And Lizzie missed him so much already, and if she didn't concentrate hard enough, she knew her tears would roll unceasingly.

Jane picked up on Lizzie's ambivalent emotions, and decided wisely to change the subject. "So, have you registered for all your classes?"

"Yeah, I got really lucky. I got all my intro classes, and also the upper div Behavior Analysis."

"You got into upper div BeSis? How? You're just a first year!" Jane sat up on her bed, with eyes wide open.

"I'm…I'm on an accelerated program. Let's just keep that between us, can we? I don't want other cadets to treat me like I'm a pompous ass."

"Wow, congratulations, that's a rare feat. I'm sure you worked really hard for it, I'm thoroughly impressed. And now that I know you're such a smarty pants, I'm seeing a lot of study sessions together in the future." With that, Jane gave an enthusiastic thumbs up and a wide sincere grin. Lizzie laughed in return, and was instantly relieved and thankful that she felt easy and free to be able to trust this girl.

"Just a warning, though. It's an upper div class, so you're stuck with all the upper class cadets. The competition is fierce. It's going to be tough and intimidating, and they don't look too kindly at some first year cadet invading their space. Be careful, or blood will be spilt." As Jane ended with an exaggerated ominous tone, both girls broke out into fits of laughter.

"Yeah, thanks for the warning. I'm just going to do my thing, and stay out of everyone else's business. And hopefully I'll come out of it with my life intact. I'm just trying to survive on a daily basis here."

"You will have a better feel of the place at the orientation tomorrow. I've actually been here for a week, so I feel a bit more settled in. But I'm looking forward to the orientation, to see all the big whigs, size up other cadets, all that sorts of things."

"Well, before all that, I'd like to have my boxes delivered so I can start unpacking." Lizzie exhaled deeply and fell back onto her bed, with eyes that looked out onto the pine tree outside the window, with its green leaves turning shy red in the soft autumn wind.

. . . . . .

"We would like to welcome the class of 2010 to the Marine Corp Base at Quantico, the FBI Academy."

Amid the thundering claps, Lizzie looked around the Quantico Station Auditorium, with its five thousand seats taken up by upper cadets in uniforms, present to welcome the first year candidates. She felt her head whirling, as she freshly realized the gravity and the magnitude of this place, with its rich history, the unwavering discipline, and the uncompromising academics.

The colonels and the officers from each FBI discipline were introduced, and as Lizzie recognized some of the faces from the articles she used to read, she couldn't help but feel the strange mixture of excitement and fear. She was excited to be present at this richly respected institution, and she recognized it as her privilege and honor. Yet Lizzie was filled with fear; that perhaps she wouldn't be able to live up to its high standards and discipline. She feared that she wouldn't be good enough. At that moment, she missed her dear dad and wanted to run home to his warm embrace, as if this was the first day of school.

. . . . . .

The orientation was over in two hours, and the cadets were led to the front hall, an impossibly large standing area where cadets were given opportunities to meet one another, as well as academic professors and training officers. Lizzie and Jane stood in the corner with shy nervousness, feeling intimidated at the throng of unknown faces and the presence of academic professors who hardly cracked a smile. Surprisingly, Lizzie appeared to be faring worse than Jane, who appeared more curious and adept at new findings. Lizzie just wanted to stand in the corner until all this was over.

"Lizzie, they're serving some cocktail punch over there. I think we should grab some, and talk to some of the professors by the far wall." Jane prodded Lizzie, gently tugging on her arm. "I think Colonel Gundsen, the tall gentleman with the mustache, teaches upper div Behavior Analysis. Maybe you should introduce yourself."

"I don't know…" This was getting quite embarrassing, Lizzie thought. She has never experienced such peaked nerves before, not like this. All of her past academic accomplishments, accolades, and pride meant absolutely nothing at this moment, and they added no value to her confidence whatsoever.

"Lizzie, it'd be all right. We all feel the same way. Come on." With that, Jane pulled along Lizzie's arm and led her across the hall, toward the refreshments table. The area was expectedly crowded with cadets and officers mingling and enjoying the refreshments, and the girls had to exert some force to get to the serving line.

The cocktail punch was being served by six young men behind the table, each dressed in their uniform and with a white towel on their shoulder. Jane and Lizzie made their way to the next available server, who was a tall blond young man with deep teal blue eyes. He had an easy smile on him, and his eyelids squinted a bit at the corners.

"Hi, you guys look like first years. Welcome to Quantico." He spoke with ease and composure as he started to pour the cocktail punch into the small glass cups. "I'm a third year. It's a bit of a tradition for the upper classmen to serve the first years during orientation."

"Thank you." Jane replied as both girls accepted the drinks.

"You're welcome, hope you enjoy it. Oh, and whatever happens, keep going." He gave a slight wink, and Lizzie felt herself blushing, as if she couldn't help it. She wanted to kick herself for looking like a fool.

As the girls walked away, Jane abruptly pulled Lizzie's arm toward the far window by the entrance of the hall. "Do you know who that was?" She exclaimed, with her eyes bright and apparently excited.

"Jane, I have no idea what you're talking about." Lizzie replied while attempting to take a drink of the punch.

"That was Donnie Ressler."

"Still no idea."

"He is the top student of his year, and he's gotten perfect marks in all of his classes for the last two years. Nobody has done that, as in the history of the academy. And most likely, he'll graduate as the top ranking cadet. Can you believe it?" Jane quickly spoke in hushed tone, getting more excited at each revelation.

Lizzie turned toward his direction to look at him one more time. "That's impressive."

"Impressive? That's all you can say? It's amazing. It's crazy. It's unprecedented. He's perfect."

"He's perfect? Jane, you sure you don't have a crush on him?" Lizzie snickered as she took in another sip of the punch. The sugary drink gave her a slight wave of happiness, and her nerves felt a bit abated.

"He is quite handsome. His eyes are so blue, and so beautiful. And he's so tall."

"Jane, seriously. Snap out of it. We are here to study, and to train. Get your head out of there." Lizzie nudged Jane on her shoulder, and shook her head twice to signify disapproval.

"Yeah, you're right. Plus I heard he has a girlfriend, some daughter of a colonel. Most likely, he'll marry into some high ranking family, and just climb up and up in his career. He has his cushy life mapped out already."

"Oh now, that's just nonsense. He does not have his life mapped out, because his life hasn't started yet. Let's get out of here." And with that, it was now Lizzie's turn to grab Jane's arm and lead her out of the hall, and into the chilly autumn afternoon towards their dorm building.

. . . . . .

Lizzie made her way down the stairs located along the wall in the Rising Hill Lecture Hall. Lizzie did not think lecture halls of this size existed, and she immediately felt like a mere tiny raindrop in the vast lake of water. She nervously tugged on her academy-issue maroon sweater, and looked for an empty seat. It was an upper div class, and the other cadets most definitely looked older and more seasoned. And they all seemed to know each other, as just about everyone was engaged in an animated conversation. Passing by all the bustle and the noise, the lone Lizzie finally located an empty seat on the edge and quickly moved toward it.

In relief, Lizzie claimed the seat and sat on it with a small huff. She looked around one more time, at the enormity of the place and in contrast, the tiny and the lonely existence of her being. Lizzie was sure she was the only first year cadet in the room, and she felt so small and so young. She was afraid of doing anything to call attention unto herself, afraid that others would point fingers, mocking her even. Lizzie just needed to survive this, that's all.

Just then, there was a loud laughter heard from the far left of the lecture hall, and Lizzie's attention went to the corner where several cadets were talking and mingling. She looked on to them for few moments, until she spotted the one familiar face. Donnie Ressler. She recognized the object of Jane's affection. His golden blond hair glistened in the bright lights of the lecture hall, and he was talking very animatedly with other male cadets. There was no chance he'd see her, she thought. There's also absolutely no chance he'll remember her, and that she's a first year cadet. There's no way, and she quickly dismissed it. Plus, she's got more important things on her mind, such as surviving her first upper div class.

The hall became instantly hushed as Colonel Gundsen appeared from the front stage. All of the cadets immediately sat properly and gave him utter silence and respect, as Colonel Gundsen walked to the center of the front stage and addressed the class.

"Good morning cadets, welcome to Behavior Analysis. By now, you all have the syllabus, so I will not use your time reviewing that. You also should have the textbooks by now, and have read the first three chapters. Now, shall we begin?"

And just as the students were getting ready to take notes, Colonel Gundsen spoke once again.

"One more thing, I hear that we have a quite a scholar amongst us. A first year student has been admitted to this class from the accelerated program. Now, I'll respect the student and will not divulge his or her identity, but to the rest of you, you have a stiff competition among you. Now, let's begin."

At this rather unforeseen announcement, Lizzie felt her face in full flush. She could hear some comments from other cadets, all condescending and not too welcoming. Some cadets were looking around the hall, in hopes of spotting such a youngster. Lizzie felt like she was in the middle of a fire storm, and desperately wanted to slide down her chair like liquid ready to evaporate. She wanted to disappear, but not like this. Survival just got more interesting, and Lizzie wondered how she'll keep up the obscurity for the entire semester.

. . . . . .

The first lecture of the class ended promptly at the hour, and Lizzie started slowly to pack away her belongings. Colonel Gundsen disappeared from the door at the front stage, and some cadets were seen racing out to catch up to him. Lizzie, however, needed more breathing space to process this day and decided to visit his office some other time, away from the eyes of the other cadets. She picked up her bag and started up the stairs when she felt a sharp tap on her right shoulder.

"Hey!"

Lizzie turned around quickly, only to find bright blue eyes looking deeply into hers.


	2. Chapter 2: The Midterm

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 2: The Midterm

"Hey, wait!"

Her first instinct was to run. Or walk the hell away fast; at least manage that much in the milieu of hundred cadets droning towards the lone exit on the top of the stairs. Lizzie admitted that perhaps this was highly futile and completely immature, but heck, this was the first instinctual move. She just chalked it up as something she couldn't help, and will most likely regret later. But at the moment, Lizzie saw nothing else but the red exit sign.

However, Donnie Ressler wasn't the one to easily give up the chase. He was surprisingly agile in the throng of others, and easily maneuvered in the tight space, positioning himself squarely in front of scurrying Lizzie. "Excuse me, don't I know you? I've seen you somewhere…aren't you…"

Lizzie didn't let him finish. "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong person." Then she feigned a push from the behind, and pressed forward, quickly passing by him without eye contact. But she underestimated Donnie, and he persisted just as stubbornly.

"No, I'm pretty sure I've seen you. Weren't you at the first year orientation? I could've sworn…wait, you are the…" Then he lightly grabbed Lizzie's arm and turned her around, while tilting his head slightly lower to force eye contact. As they were standing just a breath away, Donnie's teal blue eyes finally connected with Lizzie's ocean blue eyes, and she saw something flash across his face. She knew he had recognized her from the orientation, and she was now in full escape mode.

"I'm sorry, I really have to go." She freed her arm and aggressively pushed past other unassuming cadets, causing rolling murmurs of complaints and protests. But she had no choice but to bear it all, for she was not ready to have others find out she was the lone youngster in the upper div class. Not today, not on the first day of class.

Finally out of the building and into the cool breeze of the autumn, Lizzie was annoyed that she had to resort to such immature act of escape, and silently cursed at herself as she briskly walked to her dorm building, clutching her bag of books like a thief in the night.

. . . . . .

"How was your first class?" Jane inquired as they lined up in the food line, scrutinizing over the various greens of the salad bar.

"Unexpectedly and regrettably eventful," was her dry reply as Lizzie exhaled deeply. She had only grabbed half a turkey sandwich and an apple.

They sat in the far corner by the window, away from the upper class male cadets in the middle rows of the eating commons.

"Eventful, eh? What the heck happened?"

"My first class was Behavior Analysis." Lizzie muttered as she took a small bite of the apple.

"Oh, right, the upper div class. What happened?" Jane asked carefully, mirroring Lizzie's look of apprehension.

"My cover's blown." Lizzie snickered a bit and shook her head in disbelief. It just sounded cartoonish at the moment, as if this was some faux spy movie.

"What? What do you mean?" Jane's eyes became wider, waiting in anticipation.

"So much for my wanting to coast along anonymously. I think other cadets know that I'm first year. Well, I should say just one cadet knows. Can't believe my luck. On my first day, even."

"How? Who would have that information?" Jane's eyes were still wide as the full moon.

"Well, to be fair, it was Colonel Gundsen who announced that a first year cadet was enrolled in the class. I'm thinking he let that out of the bag, to possibly push the upper class cadets." Lizzie paused to take another bite of the apple.

"He did what? And then?"

"I thought everything would be fine, until your golden boy saw me."

"My who? What are you talking about, Lizzie?"

"Donnie Ressler. He's in the class, and as luck would have it, I think he remembers me from the orientation."

"Oh, my god. What happened?" Jane was now leaning closer to Lizzie, in absolute anticipation. Perhaps the mention of her golden boy had peaked her interest exponentially.

"He stopped me after class. I don't know how, but he caught up to me amongst the hundred cadets."

Jane looked out the window for a moment, lost in thought. "Wow, those are some crazy chances. Are you sure he recognized you? I mean, we barely spoke two words to him for two seconds."

"Jane, I know he remembers. It's like I saw it in his eyes, I'm sure of it." Lizzie had now picked up her half sandwich and contemplated whether she wanted to eat it after all.

"So what did you do? Did you talk to him?"

"Not exactly. You wouldn't believe it, but I ran. I ran like an idiot caught stealing a freaking candy or something. Oh god, I'm embarrassed just thinking about it." Lizzie dropped the sandwich onto her plate, pushing it away unceremoniously.

"You ran?"

"I panicked, I didn't know what to do. I felt so exposed, and so suddenly, and by him of all people. Oh, he looked so smug. And he must think I'm a total loser now. And a liar. Oh geez, it just gets better, doesn't it?" Lizzie was sure now that she felt headache slowly invading. Yes, it was getting better every moment.

"Why didn't you just talk to him? Isn't it easier just to tell him? Lizzie, it shouldn't be this big of a deal." Jane had now chosen to speak with clear sense, and Lizzie couldn't agree with her more. But it was just too late.

"I guess I could've just told him. But I wasn't planning to tell anyone, remember? I had made up my mind to stay under the radar, and when this happened so unexpectedly, I just couldn't shift my mind fast enough. So I panicked. And I ran for it. There you go, an exemplary story for all ages." Lizzie slumped forward with her arms flat on the table, embarrassed and disappointed at herself for all the wrong actions she took that day. How can she be wise and mature when put on the spot? All she's ever wanted was to be a mature, sophisticated young lady, instead of a panicky and awkward girl, prone to making bad mistakes when put in an unexpected element. And now she must deal with the lie she's unwittingly told to Donnie Ressler.

"What are you going to do?" It was as if Jane had read her mind.

"What else can I do? I'm just going to have to avoid him."

"Are you serious? Yeah, that sounds like a good plan." Jane, being sarcastic, didn't help one bit.

"It's a big class, a big campus. I'm just going to lay low, and hopefully never see him again."

. . . . . .

The resolution to stay anonymous went accordingly to plan for the rest of the semester, most surprisingly to Lizzie herself. She almost couldn't believe her good fortune; that such comically deplorable plan would actually not come crashing down upon her face in full ghastly fashion. For the next three months, Lizzie did not see Donnie Ressler in class, or anywhere else for that matter, and she began to believe that perhaps she had overreacted. Perhaps Donnie had forgotten about her and the incident of "The Girl Who Ran." Lizzie was sure Donnie, in his full academics, had million other more pressing matters in his mind, in particular the midterm exam from the Behavior Analysis class.

The exam season was in full swing, and Lizzie felt all the pressure and the stress of receiving high marks for her first semester at the academy. Nothing would please her more than showing her dad the perfect grades, as such as she's been receiving ever since elementary age. And more so this year, Lizzie had a lot to prove to herself since she's been accepted to the accelerated program.

After dinner, as per usual as every night, Lizzie climbed the old staircase to the third floor of the Robert Millborough Academy Library, equipped with all of her books and supplies. Jane was going to meet her later in the evening, and Lizzie wanted to take the opportunity to have some time of quiet reading and studying to herself. She grabbed few reference books for Behavior Analysis from the third floor book room, and settled in at the corner desk by the small window. She was able to put in only an hour of reading when she heard an unfamiliar voice from behind.

"I was told a girl with brunette hair had the books I needed."

Lizzie was startled by the voice that broke through the silence of the library, and instantly turned around to face a figure standing behind her chair. And her eyes became wide as she certainly recognized the face of Donnie Ressler, who was wearing a half grin, and even a hint of annoyed sneer. Donnie's blue eyes glistened darkly as his body leaned into Lizzie, invading into her space with an arrogant flair. Lizzie leaned back out of instinct, not sure what he was about to do.

Donnie surveyed what was spread out on her desk, and even this Lizzie took offense as it was considered her private belongings. He had no right to take upon this position, without her permission. In fact, his behavior was downright intrusive, pompous, and condescending. On top of that, he was quite audacious in assuming she'd willingly allow him to stand so close to her.

"Robert Skinner, Richard Allwright, William Deasy. Yup, all the required readings for the class."

"I have them checked out for two hours. You'd have to wait." Lizzie stated firmly and resolutely. There was no way she was going to let him weasel anything out of her.

As on cue, Donnie leaned in closer, now putting his hand on the back of her chair and his other hand on her desk. He has now blocked her in. "You are the first year cadet, I remembered. You must be the one on the accelerated program." Donnie spoke with a low snicker. "Why didn't you just say so before?"

Lizzie did not know how to respond to him, but she wanted space and considered just pushing him away.

"What's your name anyway?" Donnie leaned in closer, if that was even possible. Lizzie could now detect a faint aroma of musk aftershave in the air. Not wanting to be cornered, Lizzie pushed Donnie from his chest, and got up from her chair forcibly. At this, Donnie looked quite startled by her sudden fortitude and vigor.

"You can have the books if you want, I'm done with them anyways. Just return them to the book room, will you?" Lizzie stated curtly, and began to quickly gather her belongings.

Donnie's eyebrows furrowed in response. "Look, I don't care for the books. I just want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't have time to socialize, I have to study for next week's midterm. You know the one from a little class called Behavior Analysis?" Lizzie continued packing her belongings, and her brusque response and stiff movements were enough to alert him that she did not want to be bothered.

"Hey, it's not a big deal. So you are on the accelerated program, so what? It's nothing to hide, I mean, I think it's great that you got into that. I was just thinking maybe we can even study together."

At this, Lizzie slammed a book shut loudly, "I don't need to study with you, or anyone else for that matter."

"Look, what is your problem anyway? I'm just trying to be friendly with you." Donnie demanded, sounding quite impatient.

"You want to know what my problem is? I guess I'm done with your arrogant act, you thinking you can stand real close to me to get whatever the hell you want!" Lizzie spoke with too much emotion, and she immediately regretted it.

"What? You have a problem with me standing close to you? That doesn't even make sense."

Not to be outdone, Lizzie threw all caution to the wind and screamed nonetheless. "Well, of course it doesn't make sense, how can it ever make sense to a brute like you?"

"You know, there are names for girls like you!"

"Oh really, pray tell, what would that choice word may be?" Lizzie challenged him, without fear.

Then the silence came suddenly. Both were just plainly angry and affronted, and perhaps were gearing up for the next round of the battle.

"Hi guys. What's going on?" A meek voice was heard from behind. Jane was standing, staring at the two with a look of befuddlement. "Lizzie, should we just head for the dorms?"

"Lizzie, huh? Finally get to know your name, Lizzie. Good bye and good night, Lizzie. I'll return the books, don't worry, Lizzie. I'm Donnie Ressler, by the way. Nice to meet you." Donnie taunted, "Oh, and good luck on the exam next week, Lizzie. Hey, how about a nice lunch sometime, Lizzie?"

Jane, with her mouth slightly agape, stared motionlessly at the heated exchange between the two, until Lizzie grabbed her by the arm and led her down the staircase.

. . . . . .

Lizzie had vowed to stay clear of Donnie Ressler, and committed to plunge headfirst into her studies and not be bothered by anything else. The week went by quickly, and although Lizzie could not possibly prepare for the exam to the fullest extent, she was nonetheless content with what she was able to produce. Lizzie considered her exchange with Donnie a glitch in the system, a minor hiccup of an incident in an otherwise a large scope of future successes at the academy. Looking back, Lizzie could even deign to laugh at such childish scenario.

The first semester midterm exam results for Behavior Analysis were posted outside of the lecture hall by the end of the week, and Lizzie walked towards the bedeviled spot with Jane, nervously clutching her hand.

"Oh God, I can't look." Lizzie exclaimed, shielding her eyes. "Jane, what does it say?"

Jane spotted Lizzie's name on the long document taped to the hall door, and attempted to read the grade posted. However, her reply was of puzzlement. "It says, 'please see professor'."

"What?" Lizzie blinked nervously, and read the phrase again next to her own name. "Please see professor? What does that mean?"

"I don't know." Jane offered, attempting her best to sound hopeful.

"Maybe I failed the test?" Lizzie cried in full exasperation. Jane interjected quickly and wisely, "Lizzie, calm down, just go see Colonel Gundsen. Maybe he has good news."

. . . . . .

Lizzie knocked on the deep mahogany door of Colonel Gundsen's office loudly, trying her best to hide her flustered and jittery hands. She's always assumed the worst in all situations, and walking to his office had been one of the most torturous dark times imaginable. Lizzie had already planned out how she will explain her failed mark to her dad.

Soon enough, Colonel Gundsen's portly face appeared at the door. "Oh Lizzie, come in. Please."

He opened the door wide for her, and she entered quietly. She has been in his office several times during the semester, but never on the occasion of possible punishment. She nervously rubbed her hands together to prepare for the worst.

"Sit down, next to Donnie." At this, Lizzie turned her eyes toward the rich brown leather couch on the far wall, whereupon seated was Donnie Ressler. She felt herself becoming numb of emotions, everything in the room started to whirl around, and she realized this had to be a dream. A very bad dream.

Lizzie gingerly walked to the couch, without looking at Donnie, but she was sure he was sitting without an expression on his face. They sat side by side, in silence, facing Colonel Gundsen.

"Well, I don't want to alarm you both in anyway, but I do need to speak to you in person. You two have received the highest marks in the class." Colonel Gundsen pulled out a file from his desk.

"Donnie, you've received 98%. And Lizzie, you've received 99%. Congratulations to both, I don't recall any cadets receiving such high marks from me in the past." Gundsen smiled at them warmly, and took notice that both had collectively heaved a big audible sigh of relief. And the tone of flesh was returning to their previously whitened faces.

"Well, the reason why I called you both into my office is that, every fall, there is a Governor's Dinner held at the Gala Hall. It's a fundraising kind of an event, fairly small in size actually. And because of its small size, traditionally we've had top ranking students be in charge of organizing it. And this fall, that privilege falls on you two." Gundsen paused for a moment.

"My secretary, Mrs. Gibbons, will give you the details of what needs to be done. And the Dinner is in two months, which would give you an ample amount of time to prepare. I don't foresee it as a difficult job, but you do need to work closely together. Again, it's considered an honor to oversee this event, and I trust you both, being the top students, to be thorough and to produce a great event. Any questions?"

Donnie and Lizzie continued to stare at the face of Colonel Gundsen, and replied in unison.

"No, sir."


	3. Chapter 3: The Truce

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 3: The Truce

"What is it between you and Donnie Ressler?"

Lizzie took a careful sip of her steaming coffee as she looked out the window while plopped up on her bed, lazily watching the moisture seep into the grey world outside. The autumn chill has finally transitioned to frigid winter, and the heavy dark clouds foretold of rain coming their way very soon. Now that the midterms were finally done, today was one of those rare Saturdays that the students were given a free pass, meaning they could spend it in any way they wanted before the second half of the semester started. The cadets looked forward to this weekend as a rare treat after the stressful week of exams, and it seemed as though many were venturing out to the city for some much needed fun.

The roommates were in no hurry to start the day as they were still in their pajamas, lazily lounging on Lizzie's bed while enjoying their morning coffee that Jane had brewed with her tiny coffee press. Jane was lying on the foot of Lizzie's bed, while Lizzie took her position against the wall facing the window. They have been talking about how to spend the weekend, but as usual, Jane brought up the subject of Donnie Ressler.

"I mean, you hardly know the guy. How can you hate someone you hardly know?"

"I don't hate him." Lizzie countered quietly.

"Well, whatever it is, it's pretty intense." Jane added with a raised eye brow, "It was ugly at the library."

"Oh god, don't remind me. If I could just figure out how to delete that from all of our memories." Lizzie buried her face onto her pillow in utter regret and shame, and she cringed every time her memories trekked back to that night at the library. She knew that she had foolishly overreacted to everything that Donnie had said to her, and truthfully, she knew that Donnie was just trying to be friendly with her. But something about him had touched her nerve and set her off, making her angry even.

"Lizzie, maybe I shouldn't have told you about him, maybe I gave you some ideas about him." Jane mused, "Just remember, the person you think he is, may not be him. He may not be the big man on campus, the pompous ass. Or some lothario, lusting after a helpless first year newbie."

"First of all, I'm not helpless. And second of all, he was not making a move on me, that I'm sure."

Jane gave Lizzie a knowing grin. "Just keep an open mind to him, give him a chance at least. Especially now that you have to work with him on that Governor's Dinner."

"Oh god, don't remind me of that, too. What am I going to do? How did it come to this?" Lizzie, now in full despair, dramatically threw herself onto the bed, and buried her face into her blanket. "How do I get out of this?"

"You can't get out of it. Gundsen said it's an honor, remember?" Jane teased as she threw Lizzie a pillow.

"Shut up." Lizzie let out a muffled remark, her face still buried in the thick ripples of her blanket.

"Well, I say, you two better figure something out, because it's going to be long two months."

. . . . . .

Lizzie and Jane had decided to take the cab out to the city and watch a movie later in the afternoon. In the meantime, Jane had finally relented to the fact that laundry had to be done, and she dragged her feet to it while Lizzie decided to check out the swimming pool at the Academy Rec Center. Lizzie was a star swimmer in high school, and at that particular moment, she needed the escape and the distraction that came with her mind connecting solely with the body.

It was starting to drizzle a bit as Lizzie walked to the Rec Center located by the south gate. She made her way to the base floor where a large swimming pool was located, and she noticed only a handful of cadets mingling around the jacuzzi area. It must be the free pass day, she thought, as many cadets were traveling to the city and the Rec Center was practically empty. It was actually a rare treat to have the pool all to herself, and she quickly walked into the women's changing area.

When she came out wearing her swim suit, the pool was still empty. Lizzie tied her brunette hair into a pony tail, and carefully tested the water with the tip of her toes. The water felt warm to the touch, and as she jumped in, Lizzie felt alive and uplifted, with her body instantly becoming refreshed and energized. Lizzie remembered back to her days at swim meets, all the races that she's won and life was happier and simpler back then.

Lizzie leaned against the pool wall, and as her hands created ripples in the water, her mind drifted to her home and her dad. And in that familiar element of water rippling around her body, Lizzie finally allowed herself to let go, to let go of all pretense, and all the guarded walls started to crumble. Then and there, Lizzie felt her tears flow, freely and unabashedly, with no one to see and tell her otherwise. Lizzie missed home. Lizzie missed her dad. Her tears mixed in with the pool, her sadness melding onto the quiet ripples, and she felt as though she was swimming in her tears. And she couldn't be more alone than at that moment.

When she heard some voices from the back, Lizzie kicked off her feet and started swimming. She swam without thought, just connecting her body to the water and letting her body do all the work. She had lost count of how many laps she's swam, but when she felt as though she could no longer breathe, Lizzie decided to head back to her dorm.

Lizzie lifted herself out of the pool quickly and walked toward her towel perched on a bench against the wall. She had barely wiped her face dry when she heard a loud voice calling from behind.

"Lizzie!"

She turned around in surprise, and spotted three tall boys across the pool. One of them was Donnie Ressler. The three of them were in their swim trunks, and looked as though were just about ready to start swimming. Lizzie wrapped her towel around her waist, and remembering Jane's words to be open minded, uttered a meek, "Hi."

Donnie started to walk around the pool towards her, just as the other two boys followed along. The two boys were smiling at Lizzie, but something about their demeanor alarmed her and she focused on Donnie instead. But perhaps that wasn't a good idea, either, as Lizzie couldn't help but let her eyes roam around Donnie's shirtless figure. His broad chest was toned and smooth, rippling with muscles and chiseled in form. He walked tall and with confidence, his strong arms swinging from the wide brawny shoulders. His blond hair was loose and tousled, falling across his teal blue eyes that were twinkling from the reflections of the water. As much as she'd like to resist, Lizzie had to admit that Donnie was quite striking and handsome.

When Lizzie made eye contact with Donnie, she quickly averted her eyes, feeling like she was caught staring at the cookie jar. Donnie was smiling, nonetheless.

"You swim, too?" He and the boys stood before her, as she dripped in water awkwardly.

"Yeah, since high school." Lizzie replied meekly, intimidated by the three tall shirtless boys circling her.

"You look like you'd be a good swimmer." One of the boys quipped, as the other laughed softly. Donnie looked at them quickly.

"Yeah, I bet you could beat Donnie in this, too." Now the other boy muttered, just as the other snickered.

Donnie turned to them and barked, "Shut up."

Lizzie wasn't a fool; she understood the undercurrent meaning of the comments. And she wasn't going to be around to be insulted and mocked by these buffoons. Forget the open mind thing; Donnie Ressler can go to hell for all she cared. "Excuse me."

She pushed past the boys and walked towards the women's changing room. From the behind, one of the boys was heard saying, "She is a bitch."

At that, Lizzie stopped dead on her tracks, but did not dare turn around to see their smug faces. The severity of those words stung, but she had already cried once today, and she was damn sure she was not going to cry again. Not for those jerks.

Lizzie continued her stride forward.

. . . . . .

Lizzie felt better after taking a long warm shower, spending half the time chiding herself. What was she thinking? How could she be open minded to Donnie Ressler, who has repeatedly proven himself to be nothing but a pompous and arrogant jerk? Lizzie just had to figure out how she can get out of organizing the Governor's Dinner. She just has to face the music and go talk to Colonel Gundsen the first thing Monday morning.

When she walked out of the Rec Center, it had already started to rain, quite heavily in fact. Lizzie was, of course, without an umbrella, and she clutched her coat tightly across her body as she walked briskly down the campus walkway. She kept her face downward, as to avoid rain drops pelting her face. That was probably how she failed to see a figure standing before her.

"What in the world..." Lizzie exclaimed to the figure, barely relieved that she had missed colliding into him.

"Lizzie, can we talk?" It was Donnie Ressler. He needs to stop popping up everywhere, Lizzie cursed to herself.

"Leave me the hell alone. I'm a bitch, remember?" She stated curtly, and continued her brisk walk, each step becoming faster than the last. But Donnie, in his typical fashion, persisted and kept up the speed.

"Look, I'm sorry. My friends are real jerks sometimes." Donnie pleaded, "Lizzie, please let me at least apologize."

"Fine, I accept your apology. Now don't ever speak to me again." Lizzie spoke quickly without breaking speed.

"Lizzie…" This was the last thing she heard before realizing that Donnie had grabbed her arm, and was now dragging her towards a small foyer located in the middle of the campus quad. It was clear he was intent on speaking to her, and the foyer was the only dry spot around.

"The hell…let go of me!" Lizzie protested, but couldn't free herself from his strong and determined grip.

It wasn't until they reached the foyer that Donnie released Lizzie's arm. But she was fuming with anger.

"Lizzie, I'm sorry I had to do that. But we need to talk." Donnie spoke quickly, perhaps to cut off Lizzie's barrage of angry words. And he continued, not giving her a chance to talk yet.

"Look, I'm not sure why or how we've become this, but I just…I've never intended to hurt you, or insult you, or even fight you. I've actually…" Donnie broke off for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts.

"At the library, I know I came across like an ass, and I know I said some things to you that I shouldn't have said. I'm really sorry, and I feel terrible about it."

"I just want you to know that I'm not this jerk you think I am. I actually…I like you. And I respect you. I think you're real smart, and I feel challenged by you." Donnie gazed away shyly, and Lizzie was quite surprised that he could be so awkward and unsure of himself. He looked at her again, his hair slopping wet and falling across his eyes. The sincerity in his eyes struck Lizzie, and she knew then and there that the person standing in front of her was not the same person who's resided in her mind.

"Plus, if we're going to work together for the Governor's Dinner, we should at least pretend to get along."

Lizzie let out an easy laughter, and Donnie joined in. They laughed together, looking into each other's eyes, as the foyer kept them dry and cozy from the rain pelting all things in sight.

"Donnie…" Lizzie finally spoke, softly.

"Oh, you know my name?" He teased, with his eyes glistening with shy humor.

"Yes, you insisted it upon me, remember?" Donnie kept his gaze on Liz, and for the first time, she felt bashful under his attention.

"I'm sorry, too, for just being a crazy bat at the library. I know you were trying to be friendly, but I overreacted to everything. I don't know what came over me."

"It was probably my handsome face that threw you off." Donnie was teasing again, and he seemed to be enjoying watching Lizzie break out in laughter. Who knew he was such a funny and silly guy.

"And don't tell me, it was my beauty that kept you pursuing me, right?" Lizzie attempted to match his brand of humor.

"Maybe it was." He replied graciously, but his laughter abated slightly, and Lizzie wasn't sure what she saw on his face just then.

"By the way, I bear good news and bad news. Which would you like first?"

"Good news, please."

"Mrs. Gibbons stopped me earlier today, and gave me the file on the Governor's Dinner. So we have that, at least."

"And the bad news?"

"The Governor's Dinner. It's still on." They shared an easy laughter once again, but there was a heavy dose of pained reluctance as well. "I can't believe we got roped into this. Honor, my ass." Donnie quipped.

"We should probably get together and go over the file. Start organizing it, earlier the better." Donnie suggested, and Lizzie could tell that he was unexpectedly shy about it.

"How about tonight?" He inquired hesitantly.

"I've actually made plans. It's a free pass weekend, so my roommate and I are going to the city, maybe catch a movie."

"Oh, I see."

"How about tomorrow?" Lizzie had nothing planned for the day.

"Tomorrow sounds good. Let's meet up early, so we can get most of it done before the second half of semester starts."

"Sounds good." Lizzie nodded in confirmation, and decided to head out to her dorm building. "I'll see you tomorrow."

But Donnie placed his hand on her arm and stopped her, "Lizzie, do you want a ride to your dorm building? It's raining cats and dogs right now, and my car's parked just behind the Rec Center."

"Umm, OK. Thanks." And with that, they ran out of the foyer and into the heavy rain.

. . . . . .

"Thanks, Donnie, for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow." Lizzie turned to grab the door handle when Donnie replied.

"Hey, if you want, I can give you guys ride to the city. It'd be better than taking a cab, don't you think?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to. We can manage." Lizzie protested, mainly out of expected manners.

"No, I insist. I don't mind it, I actually don't have anything planned."


	4. Chapter 4: The Competition

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 4: The Competition

"Lizzie, you're back. We should probably check out the movie listings before deciding where to go."

Jane was sitting on her chair by the desk, looking into her laptop while munching on potato chips from a small bowl. Freshly laundered clothes were neatly folded and stacked on her bed, giving their small dorm room a lingering scent of fresh detergent. She gave Lizzie a quick glance and muttered, "Why did it have to rain today?"

"I actually got us a ride." Lizzie dropped her backpack by her desk and sauntered into the bathroom, grabbing a towel to dry off her sopping wet hair. "Can you get ready in two minutes?"

"You got us a ride? How? Who?" Jane got up from her chair and walked over to the bathroom entrance.

From underneath the towel covering her head, Lizzie offered only two words, "Donnie Ressler."

"What?" Jane's jaw dropped instantaneously, while the rest of her body appeared to have frozen.

"I bumped into him at the Rec, and he offered to drive us to the city. He's waiting in his car right now, so go get ready."

"OK…the details of how you and Donnie are so chummy is a topic we shall have to discuss at a later time, in great detail, of course. But right now, what am I going to wear?" Jane ran over to her closet, busily flipping through her clothes. "Lizzie, you are so cruel! You could've called me and warned me about this. I don't have enough time to get ready!"

"Oh god, I had a feeling this was going to happen." Lizzie muttered as she combed her auburn hair, then sauntered over to her closet and changed into jeans and a sweater. She grabbed her coat and walked over to the door, turning around to watch Jane scurrying about in the room. "You ready?"

"No, I have to fix my hair, put on some make-up…Lizzie, I really wish you could've warned me about this. Now where is that curling iron?" Jane dashed into the bathroom, while Lizzie looked on with exasperation.

"Jane! It's not a big deal!"

. . . . . .

"This is Jane, my roommate. Jane, this is Donnie." Lizzie climbed into the back seat of Donnie's car, as she knew Jane would appreciate sitting next to him in the front. It was only confirmed when Lizzie detected a small smile appear on Jane's blushing face.

"Yeah, we've kind of met, I guess. I remember you from the library." Donnie chatted effortlessly, "Nice to meet you, Jane. I'm sure Lizzie spoke only good things about me."

"Nice to meet you, too, Donnie. And yes, she has." Jane articulated sweetly, and the two of them joined in an easy laughter. Lizzie knew that their laughter was at her expense, as they both knew that she had some other choice words regarding Donnie.

As he pulled out the car, Lizzie pondered perhaps there will be a love match in the making between Donnie and Jane.

. . . . . .

The drive to the city took approximately thirty minutes, and Jane had directed Donnie to drop them off at the downtown area near the Fairfax District. Although the rain had not subsided, the streets were bustling with people walking in every direction possible, and the atmosphere was quite enervating and festive.

"Thanks for the ride. We really appreciated it." Lizzie called out as she climbed out of the car.

"Yeah, thank you so much for the ride, Donnie." Jane added to the sentiment, but before she slammed the door shut, she leaned down towards him, "Hey, why don't you come hang out with us today? The movie starts in half an hour, and you're already here. That is, if you're not doing anything later."

Lizzie could only watch this scene unfold with no words to offer, and Jane didn't need any help. She was fast, and she knew what she was doing. Donnie looked over at Lizzie standing behind Jane and said, "Well, I guess, since I'm already here. Are you sure you don't mind? I mean, I wouldn't want to ruin the ladies' night."

"No, it'd be fun. Right, Lizzie?" Both Jane and Donnie turned to Lizzie, and she could only nod in agreement. Jane faced Donnie again with a sweet grin, "Great, and let's have dinner after."

. . . . . .

After the movie, the three of them decided upon a pizza joint near the theater. The place was absolutely packed, but they were able to squeeze into the bar seating area, with Jane sitting in the middle. The music was too loud, and Lizzie was relegated to sipping her soda while Jane was leaning into Donnie, carrying on a conversation into his ear. Several times Donnie turned his eyes towards Lizzie, in an effort to break away from Jane, but Lizzie hadn't the foggiest idea that it'd be her who should rescue him.

Donnie dropped off the girls at the dorm building at around midnight, each exhausted but still relishing on the temporary escape from the droning life at the Academy. Donnie was noticeably quiet and reserved during the drive back home, and only replied when posed questions by Jane. Lizzie assumed that he must've been tired, just as she was, and thankfully they had Jane and her endless jabbering to fill in the silence.

The girls quickly said their goodbyes and walked briskly to the dorm room, collapsing onto each of their beds as soon as they arrived. Jane grumbled after a moment, "I can just sleep in this position right now."

"Me, too." Lizzie muttered softly, her voice muffled by her pillow nearby. "You looked like you had a lot of fun today." She couldn't help teasing, and it was only her rightful duty as a fellow girl to point that out.

"If by that you mean Donnie Ressler and me riding off the sunset, you're watching the wrong movie, my dear."

"Are you sure about that? It sure looked like it. I was hoping the movie had a happy ending." Lizzie couldn't help that, either. She snickered at her own doltish humor.

"Lizzie, you know I love you, but you could be so dense about these things. Donnie Ressler is not interested in me." Jane has now sat up on her bed and faced Lizzie, "He's interested in you."

Now it was Lizzie's turn to sit up, quite abruptly at that. "Jane, what are you talking about? You two were glued together practically the whole night."

"All he wanted to talk about was you. I mean, he wasn't too direct about it, but he wanted to know where we studied, what we did for fun, what we did on weekends, and all that. Come on, I'm not stupid. He was interested in knowing more about you." Jane countered, "Plus, he was looking over at you the whole time, which you didn't notice, of course."

"No, I didn't." All this was news to Lizzie; she truthfully had not noticed Donnie looking at her way. And none of this made sense.

"There's no way Donnie is interested in me. I mean, just the idea is so…impossible, ridiculous. Just last week we were at each other's throats, I hated him and I'm sure he hated me. No, there is absolutely no way."

Just as Jane was about to battle, Lizzie's cell phone went off and she reluctantly dove for it. "Hello?"

"Hello, Lizzie? This is Donnie…Donnie Ressler. I'm sorry to call so late." He's always had great timing.

"Donnie? How did you get my number?"

"Jane gave it to me, I hope you don't mind my asking her. I didn't have a chance to talk to you tonight at all, you know, I was taken hostage by your roommate, if you hadn't noticed. Sorry for asking her for your number, hope you don't think I'm some creep."

Lizzie couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle; how did he always know the right things to say?

"No, I don't think you're a creep. But then again, I don't know you that well, so that sentiment can change anytime."

"Right, I just have to try harder to keep you in the dark. But you're pretty smart, though." Lizzie smiled and shook her head. Was he trying to be cute now?

"Well, the reason I called is that I don't think we decided where to meet up tomorrow, to go over the Governor's Dinner logistics. I was thinking we can meet in the library."

"Library sounds good." Lizzie agreed without much thought.

"How about third floor? That's our special place, of good memories." Donnie replied with a small laughter of his own.

"Of course, I wouldn't consider anywhere else." Lizzie laughed as well. "How about ten o'clock?"

"Ten it is. Umm…I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you. Good night."

. . . . . .

It had rained again on Sunday, and Lizzie walked quickly to the library, this time equipped with a small umbrella. She was still a bit unnerved at what Jane had spoken of last night, but decided to use her logical deductions to make sense of it all. There was absolutely, positively, no way that Donnie Ressler would even be remotely interested in her, given their initial conflict, which was really just a bad beginning of a friendship. Yes, Lizzie decided, they were just in the process of becoming friends, and Donnie's interest in her life was a natural byproduct of said process. Now she was going to meet up with this friend for couple of hours for school related matters. All this made perfect logical sense to Lizzie, and she was going to stick to it no matter what.

Lizzie ran up the last several stairs up to the library entrance when she spotted Donnie sitting on the side bench. Simultaneously he spotted her as well, and he nimbly walked over to her.

"Hi Lizzie, the library is pretty much empty and it just feels depressing. I was thinking maybe we should go to a café in town, I could use some coffee, too." Donnie spoke loudly against the rain.

"Sure, yeah." And they sprinted in the rain towards Donnie's car, but not without Lizzie noticing Donnie's firm grip of her elbow, leading her safely on the wet pavement.

. . . . . .

"This is actually my favorite spot. They have the best pancakes, and their coffee is great."

Donnie pulled out a chair for Lizzie to sit as they took off their wet coats. He had driven them to Café Marmalade, a small restaurant near the entrance of the Academy. Lizzie took in the sights, with its classic Americana décor, warm colors of browns and reds, plush sofas situated in every corner, and a nice round fire place at the far wall. This cozy little habitat was in a sharp contrast to the blistery world outside, and it almost felt like a secluded warm place was carved out just for Lizzie and Donnie.

They were seated at the corner table by the window, and Donnie ordered coffee for both of them. He leaned in slightly and smiled earnestly at Lizzie. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and its greens and the teals brought out the deep blue in his eyes, and his cheeks were rosy like a boy who just ran through the snow.

"So, how do you like this place?" He inquired timidly, studying Lizzie's face carefully.

"I love it." Lizzie leaned into him as well, and her reply brought an instant brightness to his face.

"Good, I'm glad. So…"

"So, where's the file?" Now that they were well situated, it was time to get to work for Lizzie, who was feeling quite anxious for the unknown load of impending work.

"Uh, what?"

"The Governor's Dinner file? From Mrs. Gibbons?" Lizzie looked at Donnie in disbelief.

"Oh, right." Donnie reached into his backpack and produced a rather thick file of papers. Lizzie moaned at the sight of its enormity as she took it from Donnie's hands.

Lizzie flipped through the file, which was a collection of documents and receipts of past purchases necessary for the Dinner. There was a list of catering places, decoration costs, invitation forms, and many other documents that looked formal and necessary.

Just then, the waitress brought them two steaming cups of coffee and placed them on the table. Engrossed in the file contents, Lizzie did not even look at her cup of coffee while Donnie took a sip of his.

"I think the best way to do this is to divvy up the work, so you have your responsibilities, and I have mine. It looks like one person can take care of most of these jobs." Lizzie stated matter-of-factly. "That would be the most efficient way to do it, instead of us having to meet up and spend time on it together. And we can just confer on the progress over the phone. Yeah, let's do that."

Lizzie hadn't noticed at all that Donnie's warm smile has long been replaced by tightly pursed lips, as he leaned back onto his chair while listening to her. His easy and earnest demeanor was no longer in sight, and he now appeared downright annoyed and dejected. "Lizzie, can we just enjoy the coffee for a little bit?"

She lowered the file to meet Donnie's eyes as soon as he spoke, who even at her estimation, sounded quite cross. "Put down the file, Lizzie. Can we just enjoy being here…being here together…just for a little while?"

"Donnie, we have a lot of work to do." Lizzie countered, pointing at the thick file. "Let's not waste time."

"Lizzie, don't you want to…" Donnie's voice drifted off as soon as he realized that Lizzie had turned her attention onto the file contents again. He inhaled deeply and looked onto her, who had just missed a glance of disappointment flash across his face. "Oh, never mind."

"So, as I was saying, I think you should take all the jobs that require driving, such as picking up decorations and invitation cards. I'll do all the phone calls, like ordering catering and organizing the student volunteers. How does that sound?" Lizzie was already deep in her task, to the point of no return.

"That sounds fine." He replied with a grimace as he took out a notepad from his backpack.

. . . . . .

Lizzie and Donnie had been working on the logistics for nearly two hours, and they had finally completed dividing up the tasks. The amount of work that needed to be done seemed daunting, but it was quite gratifying that at least they've taken some concrete steps. Donnie, on the other hand, did not look as relieved, but Lizzie did not want to goad on too much. She stretched out her arms to relax her stiff shoulders. "I'm going to go splash some water on my face."

She made her way towards the back of the little café where the restrooms were located. Just as she made a sharp turn at the corner, a tall bespectacled young man appeared simultaneously and they collided rather forcibly. And as if the collision wasn't bad enough, he had been carrying a mug of coffee, which had now inexplicably been spilt all over Lizzie's grey sweater. The two stood in stunned silence for a moment, until the young man came to his senses.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" He gently placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm OK, really. Just a little shook up, that's all." Lizzie assured him, but the young man kept his hands on her.

"Your sweater…I'm so sorry. I didn't see you at all."

"No, it's my fault, I wasn't paying attention. It's OK." Lizzie looked down upon her sweater, and winced at the large stain of coffee, which did not go unnoticed by the young man.

Just then, Donnie appeared from behind them, eyeing the young man who quickly dropped his hands off of Lizzie's shoulders. "Lizzie, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it was just an accident. I'm OK." Lizzie turned to Donnie, becoming instantly aware that he had now placed his hand on the small of her back and wedged himself in front of the other man.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man. I spilled coffee on your girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend." Lizzie responded out of reaction, but immediately regretted that she spoke too quickly. However, Donnie kept his hand on her back and maintained his steely gaze on the young man, who had by now detected an undercurrent dynamics of undefined connection.

"OK…well, let me make it up you at least, I feel horrible about ruining your sweater. Look, I'm going to give you my number and my address so you can send me the cleaning bill."

"No, that is completely unnecessary." Lizzie protested.

"I absolutely insist on making up to the pretty lady. My name is Tom Keen. And you're Lizzie." His blue eyes through his glasses crinkled from the smile, and he gave a faint wink at Lizzie.

"Yes."

He quickly scribbled on a piece of paper from his pant pocket, and handed it to Lizzie who reluctantly accepted it. "Now, I'm going to be expecting a call from you. I mean it, I'll be waiting, Lizzie." He lightly grazed over Lizzie's hand before walking past Donnie, but slowed down ever so slightly to utter in a low voice, "Good luck, man."

. . . . . .

Lizzie had gone to the restroom in an attempt to get her sweater cleaned up, and when she returned to their table, it was clear that Donnie was still fuming at Tom Keen's remark. As she took to her chair, Donnie blurted, "Are you really going to call him?"

"No, of course not. I'm not billing anybody for an old sweater."

"Good. I didn't like that guy. Aside from that asshole remark, there's something about him…he's not someone I'd trust." Donnie spoke with a level of determination that Lizzie could not understand.

"Come on, we just met him for two minutes. Donnie, what is the matter with you?"

He didn't blink as he leaned into her, "No, Lizzie, stay away from him."

. . . . . .

**Author's Note: ****OK, you guys…this story has taken on a life of its own! When I'm writing this, I truly don't know what's going to come alive on the page until the very end. I've been sick with the flu for the past week, and decided to write this stuff out because, compared to my other stories, this one is just fluff and "easier". I really feel like I'm writing some Young Adult Romance novel, I tell ya! LOL! But it's been really fun for me, and hopefully it's been fun for you to read. Sometimes, we all need a fluff escape, right?**


	5. Chapter 5: The Hug

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 5: The Hug

Lizzie didn't remember her burgundy velvet dress to be this short, and she tugged on the hem in a futile effort that it'd somehow grow an inch or two. She hadn't brought a single dress to the Academy, let alone a formal one, and she was forced to call her dad to have him mail one from home. It may have been less trouble for her to buy a dress at the town shop than to instruct her dad over the phone to explore through her closet and find a suitable dress. It was more than typical, and completely expected and confounding, that her dad knew close to nothing about dresses, styles, hems, and fabrics. Lizzie thanked the stars that at last she had remembered she owned a burgundy dress that would more than suffice for the occasion, and in relief her dad was able to correctly recognize the shade.

But now the dress may have been all wrong. Surely she hadn't grown taller since owning this dress a year ago, and she scrutinized the strapless bodice, worried that it would be too fancy for an academic event. But Lizzie had nothing else to wear, so this dress would absolutely have to do. She grabbed a black cardigan that she had borrowed from Jane, and slipped into black pumps that she had bought a week ago. Then Lizzie clasped on a small pearl necklace, also borrowed from Jane, since she had insisted that every formal wear required a piece of jewelry.

Lizzie stood before the mirror for the final check, and she had wished Jane was there to give her some objectivity. The winter break had begun since the day before, and many cadets had already departed for their homes for the Christmas holiday. Jane had left that morning, but not before giving specific instructions on how to curl her hair and the importance of applying blush to her pale winter face. Lizzie figured she could use some perfume, but since she had none in possession, the world would have to accept her as is.

Lizzie walked briskly toward the Gala Hall, greeting some of the students she had recognized. By now the campus was nearly empty as cadets had already left on the first day of the break, in a bit of a great exodus tradition. Lizzie picked up her pace to battle the cold winter wind, while reviewing all that she needed to do for the Governor's Dinner. There will be a total of thirty six attendees, and she was responsible for seating them, as well as overseeing the serving of dinner. And Donnie was responsible for running the showcase program. It has been a very busy two months of preparation, and as recognized as top cadets, the pressure of success was heavily upon them.

Lizzie arrived at the Gala Hall, and although she was early, the place was already bustling with too many people. The serving staff and the wait staff from the catering company were setting up dinner tables, and student volunteers were putting on finishing touches on the decorations. She smiled when she spotted Donnie talking with Mrs. Gibbons at the far wall, and proceeded to walk toward him. Donnie was standing tall, dressed in a sharp black suit with a matching tie. His soft blond hair was combed neatly, parted to the side, and Lizzie felt quite taken by his handsome appearance.

It wasn't until she was a few steps away when Donnie saw her, and she could've sworn she detected a mix of surprise and marvel on his face. He turned from Mrs. Gibbons and watched her as she approached him, smiling tenderly and even taking a step toward her in anticipation. Mrs. Gibbons followed his gaze and turned to Lizzie as well.

"Elizabeth, you look absolutely wonderful, my dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gibbons. And how is everything?"

"Everything seems to be going according to plan. The guests are arriving in half of an hour, so I'm going over last minute details with Donald. Is there anything else, Donald?"

"No, ma'am."

"Well, in that case, if you'll excuse me, dear." And with that, Mrs. Gibbons walked away, looking as if her mind was occupied with million things too many.

"She's the queen bee and we are her minions." Donnie quipped behind Lizzie, and she turned to face him, sharing in a quiet laughter. "You know she's going to bite off our heads at the end of the night, right? Part of the survivalist ritual."

"Hmm, thanks for the heads up, no pun intended." Lizzie has gotten quite used to his fatalistic sense of humor. And as she surveyed the hall once more, she turned to him. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. I'll be real happy after all this is over. The place looks great, though, doesn't it?" Donnie inched in a little closer to Lizzie, placing his hand on her back and gently rubbing in small circles. "How about you? Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. I better go tend to the check-in table, the guests are arriving." Lizzie took one last glance at Donnie before leaving him and his comforting presence behind.

The Governor's Dinner was in full swing soon after, and the hall was quickly filled with Academy professors, Board members, state dignitaries, and many other important-looking suited gentlemen who mingled animatedly with each other. Lizzie hardly saw Donnie as she was busy overseeing the dinner course, but she knew he'd be busy as well, as the showcase program was about to start very soon. He must be in the back room conferring with the speakers, she thought. And she remembered that she hadn't complimented him on his appearance for the evening.

During the showcase program, Lizzie finally spotted Donnie who was standing against the opposite wall of the hall. He must've seen her first, as Lizzie met his gaze, and he broke into a warm and soft smile. As she returned his smile, something in her wanted to go to him, to hear his voice, to listen to his jokes and laugh with him, or even just to stand next to him. Lizzie kept her gaze on Donnie as she took a step towards his direction, when Mrs. Gibbons most dreadfully appeared before her.

"Lizzie, dear, would you bring champagne glasses from the kitchen storage room?"

"Yes, of course." And with that, Lizzie made a sharp turn toward the kitchen hallway, regretting the poor timing but determined to make it to his spot later.

Lizzie entered the tiny storage room and immediately spotted the clear champagne glasses stacked on the lower shelf. As she started to gingerly place them on her arms, she became aware of a shy figure peeking in by the door of the storage room. Lizzie turned to see Donnie standing with his hand on the door knob.

"Lizzie, I just wanted to see how you're doing." Donnie spoke softly with a bashful grin, looking as though he wasn't sure whether his presence had startled her.

"Donnie." That was all Lizzie said before she closed in on the small distance between them and lunged into his arms, in a hug completely unexpected by the receiver. Lizzie herself could not articulate what compelled her to swing her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

It took few seconds before Donnie could respond by enveloping Lizzie with his arms around her waist, drawing her tighter into his chest. He freed one hand to gently cradle the nape of her neck, the length of his arm pressing tight into her back. "Are you alright? What's wrong?" He spoke softly against her cheek, with a hint of alarm.

"I'm just tired, exhausted." Lizzie gave a weak reply, her voice muffled against Donnie's bare neck. What she wanted to say was that she had missed him, but that would require an explanation, of which she had none.

"It'll be over soon, just hang in there for a little longer." Donnie's arms were soothing to Lizzie, and she thought she could stay in that space until the event was over. But sense got better of her and she slowly pulled away, although Donnie protested ever so gently with his cheek lingering against hers. Their eyes met in just a breath away, and Lizzie looked away demurely as Donnie's gaze flickered hesitantly towards her lips.

"I better get these glasses for the champagne."

"Here, I'll get that." Now with clear eyes, Donnie picked up the glasses and stacked them into his arms. "Speaking of champagne, I have one stashed for later. Party of two afterwards?"

"Oh, you bet." And they exited the storage room, with Lizzie following Donnie closely behind.

. . . . . .

The Governor's Dinner concluded just before 10 o'clock, and by the time everyone had cleared out and the catering equipments packed away, it was well into midnight. The endless hustle and the bustle had hushed into a deafening silence, save for the lone two figures sitting on the floor against the far wall. The main lights to the hall had been turned off, and the side lights casted dim shadows upon the room, illuminating all the scattered decorations yet to be picked up.

Donnie took a long swig of the champagne bottle, and handed to Lizzie, who took an equally strong gulp. Lizzie shook off her black pumps and with the slight tingle of the alcohol, mumbled, "It's been an honor to organize this event. And how fitting is it that we are the ones to lock up."

Donnie gave a small chuckle, "At least Gundsen looked happy, and the event went well, if I have to say so myself."

"I never want to see shrimp cocktail ever again." Lizzie took another gulp of the champagne.

"I'm just glad Mrs. Gibbons is out of my hair. She scares me." Donnie took the champagne from Lizzie, just as she broke out in a fit of giggles. Donnie noticed that alcohol was definitely having some effect on Lizzie, perhaps making her less inhibited, more expressive, and playful even. He thought back to their hug in the kitchen storage room, of all places, and wished he could feel her soft body against his again.

"You looked beautiful today." Donnie offered quietly, enjoying the profile contours of her delicate face.

"Thank you."

"I couldn't keep my eyes off of you." Donnie ventured bravely, and it wasn't the alcohol that was making him feel bold.

Lizzie took back the bottle of champagne, and between the sips muttered, "You didn't look too bad yourself."

That wasn't the response he was hoping to receive, and Donnie bit his lower lip in disguised disappointment. "Well, now that the event is over, at least I'm out of your hair. We are now officially done, you don't have to endure my forced presence any longer." As he often does, Donnie resorted to sarcasm to mask his own lingering sense of heartache.

"Well, we made great partners," Lizzie offered, "at least we are friends, right?"

"Sure, of course we are friends." Donnie wondered if Lizzie had intended to throw him the dagger straight to his heart, as she did just now. Friends. That's what we are. Donnie smiled weakly at Lizzie, hoping his own face will not betray him.

"What are you doing for the Christmas break?" Lizzie asked brightly, perhaps the mere idea of the holiday had uplifted her spirits.

"You know, just catch up on life, I guess. Do some reading, get some errands done, and other things. What about you?"

"I'm going back home tomorrow, spend it with my dad. Oh, I cannot wait."

"Well, let's get you started on that. I'll walk you to your dorm." And Donnie got up from the floor swiftly, and extended his hand to Lizzie who took it without reserve and allowed him to pull her off the floor.

. . . . . .

"What do you mean it's cancelled?"

"All the transit buses are grounded for the day due to heavy snow. We can book you for a ride out tomorrow afternoon." The sugary sweet ticket agent behind the counter smiled looking down upon Lizzie, who was covered in snow and clutching onto her luggage bag.

"Is that my only option?" Lizzie inquired with exasperation she had long given up trying to hide.

"Yes. I'll note you for tomorrow afternoon at 3 P.M. travelling to Galverston."

Lizzie hadn't the heart to say the expected thank-you, and left the ticket booth with a disappointment that engulfed her whole being. She had to call her dad, as well as battle her luggage again on the bus going back to her dreary dorm room. This was not happening.

It didn't help that it has been snowing all day, and Lizzie was the lone shivering figure at the bus terminal. She had to bite her lip quite hard to force back the tears that were at bay, while fighting off sheer sadness and disappointment. She had envisioned arriving at her home that night, and hugging her dear dad whom she hadn't seen for four months. And this sudden derailment had left Lizzie visibly shaken with utter misery.

"Lizzie! What the hell are you doing?"

As if awaken from a dreary dream, Lizzie focused her mind on the source of the booming voice, a grey sedan with the window rolled down. She had to do a double take, but indeed it was Donnie, who was just as surprised as she was. He got out of his car and walked towards her in the snow.

"What are you doing here?"

"The transit bus ride for home got cancelled because of snow. I'm going back to my dorm. What are you doing here?"

"I was just driving into town. Here, I'll give you a ride back." And without waiting for her reply, Donnie grabbed her luggage and wheeled it towards his car. She followed him without resistance.

. . . . . .

Before the drive back to the Academy, they decided upon getting lunch at Café Marmalade, of which Lizzie needed absolutely no coaxing. Donnie thought some good food would cheer her up, and she couldn't have agreed more.

Their dishes arrived soon after ordering, a hot pastrami sandwich for Donnie and a bowl of vegetable minestrone soup for Lizzie. "Quite an excitement for you today, all before noon." Donnie quipped lightly between bites.

"Tell me about it. I was really looking forward to seeing my dad."

"You and your dad seem very close. He must be a great dad, anyone would be so lucky to have someone like him in their lives." Donnie took notice that Lizzie has yet to mention her mother, and assumed that it was an area that he should tread carefully.

Lizzie fidgeted with her spoon for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Donnie, I'm...actually adopted. My dad, Sam, adopted me when I was four years old. And it's been just the two of us since then."

Donnie looked at her with furrowed brows, unsure of how to respond to what Lizzie had just revealed. She detected his quandary, as if she understood naturally, and filled in the silence for him. "I don't know who my birth parents are, but I'm not sure if I want to know. There's nothing wrong with being adopted, and I'm not ashamed of it. My dad is the best thing in my life, and I wouldn't trade my place with anyone else."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure your dad is a pretty lucky guy to have you, too." Donnie wanted to reach for her hand, but decided against it. It was clear that he had underestimated her strength, and perhaps she was even stronger than he was.

"What about your family, Donnie? How are they like? I'm assuming you're going home, too. Right?"

Now it must have been his turn to fidget, as Donnie rubbed the edge of his plate with his index finger, while absently staring at the half eaten sandwich. He spoke after a moment, "Lizzie, my parents, umm...my parents are dead. They passed away when I was very young. And I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I guess it's just me in the family."

The shock on Lizzie's eyes made Donnie look away, as he has seen such reaction for too often and too long. He didn't want anyone to pity him or feel sorry for him, and he couldn't stand it when others treated him differently. Donnie has long reconciled with this aspect of his life, and he wished it didn't have to be so difficult to convince others of it. The only enduring aftereffect has been deep loneliness, especially during the holidays when everyone had somewhere they belonged to.

"The academy has been my home for the last two years. It's not so bad, I just keep myself busy. But I have to admit, though, Christmas pretty much sucks for me." Donnie let out a small snicker, nervously wanting to know what Lizzie was thinking.

For once, it looked as though Lizzie had spoken leaning from her heart, "Then come home with me, spend Christmas with me and my dad. It's not much, but I can't bear to have you be here by yourself. Donnie, come with me."

"No, Lizzie, I'll be alright. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family time. Plus I don't think your dad would think too kindly of some stranger showing up on his doorstep with his daughter." Donnie, in disbelief at her suggestion, refused her out of respect and practicality, although the idea of being in a nice warm home for Christmas was something he's always wanted.

"Donnie, you're not some stranger, and I know my dad would want me to invite you. So, please, you have to come. Donnie, I'd love it if you spent Christmas with me."

. . . . . . .

**Author's Note: Speaking of hugs…how about the one at the end of Stewmaker? YAWZZZZA…I'm billing NBC for the cost of my TV…BECAUSE IT MELTED!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Turnaround

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 6: The Turnaround

"I guess we both have some interesting family stories."

"Yeah, interesting is one way to put it. But we're good. We're very good." It was Lizzie who reached out to Donnie's hand, placing her delicate hand into his, and leaving it there in warmth and strength. Either of them resisted the touch nor seemed to want to break, so they held it there in silence and without regard to time.

"I just don't want others to treat me differently." Donnie conceded quietly, with his gaze kept upon Lizzie's smaller hand fitted into his rough hand.

"I know. Me, too." Lizzie knew all too well of this fear, the very reason why she kept that part of her life hidden from the world.

They remained in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, perhaps of past hurts, disappointments, confusions, and questions. Donnie spoke at last. "You can treat me differently. You can be nicer."

Lizzie looked at him, breaking out in soft laughter, once again being amused by his particular sense of humor. "I'll try harder, but most of the time, you're just asking for it."

Donnie turned to her, with an easy smile that told of the comfort he was feeling being with her. "By the way, are you sure your dad is OK with this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. In fact, he is looking forward to meeting you."

"Are you sure it won't be any trouble?"

"Yes, I'm sure, for the last time. Now, can we just get going?" Lizzie rolled her eyes in dramatic exasperation, all for his benefit, and Donnie couldn't help but to let out a small laughter. He let go of her hand, and with the key in his hand, started the grey sedan they were sitting in. They had decided to drive instead of waiting for a day to catch the transit bus, for the snow had abated significantly by the late afternoon. "So, Galverston, right? Three hour drive. Here we go."

. . . . . .

The drive had actually taken four hours, with all the unaccounted traffic and snack stops on the way. Nonetheless, Donnie and Lizzie arrived at her home just in time for dinner, and as the car pulled into the driveway by the midsized two story tudor home, Lizzie felt as though fatigue had suddenly dissipated. Her dad had gone through the trouble of putting on Christmas lights along the roof and the porch, and her childhood home illuminated like it belonged in a fairy tale.

Lizzie made Donnie honk twice, and as he unloaded their luggage from the trunk, Lizzie saw her dad peek out from the kitchen window. Lizzie ran up to the shallow brick steps up to the front door, which shortly swung open and produced an older gentleman with light grey hair. He smiled warmly as he embraced Lizzie and kissed her forehead. They stood on the porch, in a tight embrace, until Donnie walked up slowly, carrying their luggage in both hands. When Lizzie's dad saw Donnie, he let go of Lizzie and walked toward him, extending his arm for a handshake.

"You must be Donald, nice to meet you, son."

"Yes, sir. It is very nice to meet you."

"You can call me Sam. And welcome to our home, I'm glad you were able to make it. Lizzie has told me a great deal about you." Sam took a luggage from Donnie's hand, while smiling even wider at the moment. "And you're just in time for dinner. Come on in."

. . . . . .

The home was humble and bare, but warm and cozy, and Donnie knew even at a first glance that love and tenderness resided in this place. The living room boasted of thick leather sofas with a white brick fireplace, which was glowing with bright flames of live fire. On the left of the house was a large kitchen, which was attached to a formal dining room. Lizzie spotted a tall Christmas tree standing bare in the corner of the living room, and turned to her dad in sheer surprise and elation.

"I thought you and Donald can decorate the tree after dinner, sweetheart. I know how much you love doing that." Sam called out as he led the way towards the dining room with a large rectangular wooden table in the center. Lizzie and Donald took their seats on one side, while Sam sat across them and immediately removed a cover to a large dish, which underneath revealed steaming lasagna. Sam served heaping fulls onto their plates, and the three dug into their dinner eagerly and blissfully.

The conversation during dinner mainly consisted of Lizzie animatedly filling in her dad with details of her first semester at the Academy, which included her classes, roommate Jane, and of course, the Governor's Ball that Lizzie and Donnie had organized.

"Lizzie scored the highest on the midterm, sir. She beat me by one percent." Donnie squeezed in playfully, "She cut my streak, but I'm very proud of her." He gave Lizzie a playful side glance and smiled warmly, and Lizzie in turn blushed faintly and laughed with apparent glee. It didn't escape Sam that Donnie seemed to have an effect on his daughter that he hadn't seen before.

"So, I hear that you're the top academic student in your year. That's quite a feat for a young man."

"Thank you, sir. I always try to do my best in everything." Donnie replied bashfully.

"So what made you decide to attend the Academy if I can ask?"

"Of course, sir, you can ask me anything. Umm, my father was in law enforcement, and I suppose that's what influenced me the most." Lizzie turned to him for she hadn't known that about Donnie.

Sam took a moment before continuing the conversation. "Donnie, I'm truly sorry what happened to your parents. You've turned out to be an amazing young man, and I'm sure your parents are very proud of you from somewhere up there."

"Thank you, sir. I'd like to believe that myself." Donnie met Lizzie's gaze very briefly before returning his attention back to Sam.

Sam cleared his throat, perhaps in an attempt to change the topic for Donnie's benefit. "So, what would you like to do after the Academy?"

"Well, I'm specializing in criminology and field tactics, so I'm hoping to be assigned at the Bureau as a special agent."

"Oh, just like Lizzie. Maybe you two will end up working together," Sam lightly jested. "I'm sure you won't have any problems pursuing anything you wanted, given your academic record."

"So, Donald, do you have a girlfriend, son?" Leaning back onto his chair, Sam inquired with a wicked grin while taking a sip of his red wine.

"Dad!" Lizzie turned to him, incredulous at the audacity of the question.

"What? I'm an old man, and at certain age we are allowed to put a foot in our mouths whenever we want to, if we want to. It's the only benefit of getting old."

Donnie laughed heartily and replied to his question, "No, sir, not at the moment."

"I'm surprised to hear that. A strapping young fella like you, with a promising career ahead, I'd think girls would swarm all over you."

"Dad…" Lizzie shot him a stern look of warning.

"Oh, Lizzie, don't get me started on you," then Sam turned to Donnie, "do you know how many young fellas she's turned down? They came knocking on that door, and can you blame them? She's beautiful, she's whip smart, and she has a great heart. But Lizzie wouldn't even look at them twice. Such a shame, I actually liked some of them, and this is her father speaking!" Donnie couldn't help the laughter that escaped his grin, and watched befuddled Lizzie in quiet amusement.

"Dad, I told you, I'm not interested in…guys or dating, or any of that stuff until I'm done with my studies first. I would think you'd want me to think like that."

"Lizzie, I love that you pursue your studies, and you're passionate about it. But I want you to have fun in life, too, and not miss out on things that make life fun and exciting. Maybe you'll meet a nice boy at the Academy and go on dates, or whatever you kids call it these days."

"I highly doubt it, dad. I'm there to study, and not to have fun. No guys for me." Lizzie spoke with finality, and dug into her salad, perhaps out of annoyance. Sam also noticed that Donnie was playing with the remains of his lasagna, with a faint furrow of the brow.

"You never know, Lizzie. You never know what could happen, so I wouldn't close that door if I were you." Sam spoke to his daughter tenderly, while knowingly speaking on behalf of another.

"Dad, I know nothing's going to happen."

. . . . . .

After dinner, Donnie and Lizzie decorated the Christmas tree while Sam sat on the couch, watching the pair with a cup of coffee in hand. It may have been the first time Donnie had ever decorated a tree, as he dutifully obeyed Lizzie's excellent decorating commands and even with that, he seemed quite amateur at the task. Sam watched in silent contentment as Lizzie mercilessly chastised Donnie for his complete lack of decorative senses, and the pair playfully jostled over who gets to place the gold star on the top of the tree. Their endless laughter filled the empty halls of the house, and Sam knew his daughter had spoken too hastily during dinner.

When they were done with the tree, Donnie excused himself to get settled and unpack in the guest bedroom upstairs, which was situated next to Lizzie's bedroom. He had wanted to take a shower, and Sam willingly and forcibly excused him from the dinner cleaning task.

"I'd speak more wisely, if I were you, Lizzie." Sam chided his daughter as he handed her a dish, of which she placed in the dishwashing machine.

"What are you talking about, dad?"

"When you talked about no guys for you. You shouldn't have said that in front of Donald."

Lizzie looked up to him, "What? What do you mean?"

"I think he has a soft spot for you." Sam eyed her with assured gaze. "As you do for him."

"Dad, I don't feel that way towards him. And he definitely doesn't feel that way, either." Lizzie spoke quickly, with her brows knitting with unbelief.

"You sure about that, sweetheart? I may be an old man, but I know what I see."

"I'm sure about it, dad. There's nothing between us, we're just friends." And with that, Lizzie kissed her dad on the cheek. "Dad, I love you. I'm beat, so I'm going to head on up. I'll see you tomorrow, good night. Love you." Lizzie kissed him once more before heading down the hallway and up the stairs.

. . . . . .

Lizzie passed by Donnie's room and detecting only silence, assumed that he had gone to bed already. She entered a room next to his, her own bedroom, and breathed a sigh of relief at the comfort and the familiarity of the surroundings. This has been her space for most of her existence, and she looked around to her small bed in the corner, an equally small desk next to it, and two large bookshelves filled with books and trophies of various sizes. Lizzie smiled at the thought of how her dad had essentially barred her from throwing away the trophies, insisting that they are precious memorabilia of all her proud accomplishments. Lizzie looked up to the posters of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and the Who plastered on the wall, and remembered fondly how she used to blast their music when studying for exams.

Lizzie threw her suitcase on her bed and opened the contents, and changed into a tank top and pajama pants. She fished for a small bag containing her toothbrush, and after quite a struggle, found it at the bottom of the suitcase, of course. She snickered to herself, recalling some law of the universe that says something so small is never so easy.

She also grabbed her face soap and absentmindedly opened the door of the bathroom connected to her bedroom. What she utterly hadn't expected was Donnie standing in the bathroom, with only his pajama bottoms on and drying his hair with a towel. So completely startled, she dropped her toothbrush and her soap on the floor, and quickly shut the door of the bathroom. Lizzie had wholly forgotten that the bathroom was a connector between both of their rooms.

Feeling absolutely mortified that she had walked in on him, she called out from the other side of the door, "Donnie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were in there. I'm so so sorry, please forgive me!"

She could feel Donnie trying to open the door, despite her resistance, "Lizzie, it's OK. I was just going to brush my teeth. Lizzie, open the door. We can both use the bathroom."

Lizzie timidly opened the door and peeked out, and found Donnie holding her toothbrush and soap with a child-like grin planted on his clean face. "Lizzie, it's perfectly fine. Come on, there's plenty of room for both of us."

Lizzie slowly walked into the bathroom, just as Donnie handed her the items in his hand. "This feels like some co-ed camp, doesn't it? I should know, I've been to many camps." Donnie muttered just as he started to brush his teeth.

"Yeah, it does." She replied while squeezing some toothpaste onto her toothbrush, and looked up to find him mindlessly brushing his teeth while looking at nowhere in particular. His blond hair was uncombed and sopping wet from the shower, just as few escaped drops of water were glistening on his bare chest. Lizzie took notice that Donnie's hand was perched on his waist, with his arm flexing firm and rounded muscles that only begged to be touched and appreciated. Lizzie's eyes ventured onto his torso, with its flat plane and defined ripples that fitted rather nicely into his pajama pants. Her gaze travelled upward, past his smooth chest to his shoulder, wide and strong, with muscles quivering slightly at the movement of his hand brushing his teeth. Her eyes finally rested on his face, with his wet blond hair falling playfully onto his teal blue eyes.

"What?"

"Huh?" Lizzie forced her mind to focus on the word thrown at her.

"You were looking at me. What is it?" Donnie looked at her quizzically while rinsing his toothbrush under the running water.

"Nothing." Lizzie replied quickly, then brushed her teeth that much quicker. She herself didn't know what had just happened. She had seen Donnie in swim trunks at the Academy Rec Center, but she didn't recall feeling like this then. Whatever it was, Lizzie chided herself, she needed to snap out of it. Fast.

"Are you OK, Lizzie?"

"Yeah, I'm OK. Good night," was her hurried response as she exited out of the bathroom, not taking the chance that Donnie might be able to see right through her.

. . . . . .

The Christmas morning started early, with Lizzie gleefully opening her present from her dad, which was a pair of rain boots and collector's item set of Lou Reed's CDs. "You'll need some rain boots, and I know how much you love Lou Reed," he said as Lizzie hugged him tightly. Lizzie, in turn, had gotten him the Academy-issue sweatshirt, of which he exclaimed, "The proud dad of the future kick-ass FBI superwoman."

After the breakfast of pancakes and eggs, the trio made their way to the local church for the Christmas morning service, a tradition for Lizzie and her dad for the last fifteen years. Lizzie sat between the two men, and as she stole furtive looks toward Donnie, she was relieved to find his face free of any lines, but with his cheeks rosy and relaxed, such as a boy watching a Christmas play for the first time. After the service, they trekked to town for lunch and onto another tradition of theirs, movies and bowling. They came home with some Chinese take-outs, which coincidentally was the last requirement on the list of their yearly traditions.

After dinner and some mingling by the fire place, Lizzie and Donnie said their good-nights to Sam, and as they climbed up the stairs together, Lizzie turned toward him, "Sorry you were forced into our tradition. Hope you didn't find it too cheesy."

"No, I loved it. This was the best Christmas for me, for as long as I could remember." Donnie leaned into Lizzie with a tender smile, and he was surprised to find that Lizzie didn't take a step back.

"Good, I'm glad. Well…I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Good night." Lizzie spoke with tenderness that mirrored Donnie's smile, and softly closed the door of her bedroom as Donnie turned to his.

Just as Lizzie had changed into a tank top and pajama pants, she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door. Thinking that it'd be her dad, Lizzie swiftly opened the door, only to find Donnie standing on the other side wearing a grey t-shirt and pajama bottoms. "Umm, Lizzie…I actually got you a Christmas present." Donnie spoke sheepishly, producing a small wrapped box in his hand from behind.

Lizzie looked down upon it with an unexpected surprise, and stood there without a word. "It's really nothing, actually. I bought it at the Academy bookstore, so you know it ain't going to be diamonds."

At that, Lizzie let out a small laughter, and accepted his gift. "Oh, thank you, Donnie." She carefully opened the box to reveal a small keychain, a graduation cap with an inscription, "Class Valedictorian." Lizzie looked up to Donnie with questioning eyes.

"Well, I know you're going to kick my ass in just about every class, so it's my way of relinquishing my throne and admitting concession. There you have it, ma'am, I'm not worthy of thee." Even Donnie couldn't help but to laugh at his own comment, and Lizzie shook her head in amidst of her giggles.

"In that case, I accept your forever second place, and will proudly link my keys unto the concession prize. Donnie, really, I love it. Thank you." Lizzie leaned into Donnie to give him a light hug, and suggested, "Donnie, do you want to come in for a little bit?"

Donnie looked at Lizzie with a dramatic disapproval, "Lizzie, does your dad know you're letting a boy into your bedroom?" Lizzie laughingly ignored his dramatic show and pulled his arm into her bedroom.

"So, this is where the madness began." Donnie quipped as he looked around her small bedroom, at the posters on the wall and the shelves teeming with books. He lingered over the trophies, "Swimming, academic decathlons, science fair, math competition…geez, the only thing missing is life-figured-out trophy."

Lizzie rolled her eyes as she pulled out a bottle of wine stashed in her closet, opened it with some ease, and handed it to Donnie. "Here, have a sip."

"Lizzie, does your dad know you're drinking alcohol with a boy in your bedroom? He's right downstairs, by the way." Donnie jested, but eagerly took the wine bottle from Lizzie and took a quick sip while taking a seat on the floor against the wall. Lizzie sat across of him, against her bed.

"I could see why it'd be hard for you to leave home. Your dad is a great guy." Donnie said softly as he handed Lizzie the bottle of wine. "I guess that's what family should be. A place you belong to, a place where you love and be loved, a place that never changes in your heart."

Lizzie looked at him with sadness welling inside of her, knowing painfully that Donnie hadn't experienced what family is for a very long time. She couldn't imagine what his life was like thus far, and her heart ached for him.

"You know, Lizzie, even though I've known you only for four months, I feel like I've known you all my life."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same way." And that was the last thing she remembered saying to Donnie before the effects of the wine took over.

. . . . . .

Lizzie squinted her eyes, feeling very irritated, at the sunlight escaping stubbornly through the curtains by her bed. She turned her head against it, cursing and wishing it'd just leave her alone for just few more minutes. Yet even in her drowsy state, she became distinctly aware that the right side of her body was wedged against something, like a giant mass of soft blanket or a pillow. And that mass had her right leg pinned down, as well as across her entire chest area. In sudden alarm, Lizzie fluttered open her eyes, only to find Donnie's sleepy face supplanted right by her nose. His body was snuggled towards her, with his right leg perched upon her right thigh, and his strong arm resting across her chest. He was sound asleep, lightly nudging against her ear and neck.

Startled as she was, she didn't move a muscle. Lizzie looked around the room and upon seeing an empty bottle of wine on the floor, figured that they must've fallen asleep on her bed, most likely in some drunken stupor. She turned to look at Donnie's face again, peacefully sleeping by her nose. His breathing was regulated and not a lash stirred, and he smelled clean and fresh. She gently stroked his arm pinning down her chest, and his skin felt firm and smooth, just as she expected. Donnie's blond hair shined with reddish hue against the sunlight, and she wanted to comb it gently away from his sleeping eyes. And in that moment, Lizzie was not going to deny that his body felt good against hers, his firm but soft weight, and the ripple of every muscle she could feel against her thin tank top.

And she was not going to deny that she wanted to kiss him, at that very moment. His lips were a mere breath away, the full lips that were rosy pink and slightly open. And she was done trying to give explanations to her thoughts. There was none needed here, and none was coming. Lizzie was going to kiss this boy sleeping next to her. Never mind that they were lying down on her childhood bed with a pink blanket, never mind that all four members of the Beatles were watching the entire scene unfold, and never mind that her dad was probably making breakfast downstairs. Lizzie was going to kiss Donnie, and she didn't care what happened next.

. . . . . .

**Author's Note: OK…a kiss is coming real soon, so please be patient and hang in there for me! I wanted to do a slow burn for them, but the story kinda naturally went there. It's coming, I promise!**

**Also, I'm never the one to ask for reviews, but please, I'm asking for "literary feedback". The characters are obviously not mine, but the story kinda belongs to me, so I'm wondering what you think about it. Is it too slow? Too much character thoughts? Not enough dialogue? Boring? Let me know, will ya? Let it rip! Help a sister out!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Kiss

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 7: The Kiss

"Lizzie, are you up, sweetheart? It's time to get up now, breakfast is ready!"

Startled by the abrupt voice, accompanied by piercing knocks on the door of her bedroom, Lizzie threw off Donnie's arm from across her body and ran toward the door. She opened just a sliver, and peeked out to the face on the other side.

"Dad, I'm awake, I'll be down in two minutes." She held onto the door to shield the form of the sleeping figure on her bed, just in case her dad became most inconveniently adventuresome.

"Well, hurry up before the food gets cold. It looks like Donnie overslept, too." And just as Sam turned toward the bedroom on the other end, Lizzie quickly called out, "Dad, I'll wake him up. We'll be down soon."

Lizzie made sure that her dad had descended to the very last step, then swiftly tiptoed to Donnie on her bed, who had just now begun to move his legs sluggishly. She bent down to his face and shook his arms gently at first, "Donnie, wake up. Donnie!"

The gentle tugging quickly elevated to some force, and at last Lizzie saw that Donnie was struggling to open his eyes. When his eyes slowly fluttered open, in its haze and daze, she whispered, "Donnie, wake up. It's time to get up."

Much to her dismay, it was quite apparent that Donnie was still merrily operating in the dream land. When his eyes lazily glossed over to the source of the voice, his eyes cleared ever so slightly through the film as he mumbled, "Lizzie, hi." Then with his hands extended, grabbed both of her arms and proceeded to draw her closer to him, all the while wearing a rather dopey grin. "Come here."

"You've got to be kidding me." Lizzie shook off his hands little too forcibly, and began tugging at his shoulder. "Donnie!"

"What the…what's going on?" Donnie fought the good fight against the haze, and now he was wide awake, slowly sitting up from the bed.

"You fell asleep on my bed. We probably…passed out from the wine. Couple of wild kids, we are." Lizzie quipped as she stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "Dad was here just a minute ago, you better get cleaned up. He's waiting."

Wordlessly and begrudgingly, Donnie got up and walked past Lizzie by the bathroom sink on his way to his room. He didn't even bother asking where she slept.

. . . . . .

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't stay longer. It's just that I had promised one of my professors that I'd assist in his work after Christmas. I just assumed I'd be at the Academy during the entire break." Donnie sheepishly looked at Sam while rubbing the back of his neck. At the doorway was his luggage, ready to be taken for a ride.

"That's alright, son. I understand. Lizzie, are you ready?" Sam called out to the upper floor, and heard muffled footsteps nearing their way. Soon Lizzie appeared, clutching a small luggage and hurriedly descending the stairs. "So sorry, wanted to do a double-check. And last minute dusting of the trophies."

Donnie chuckled while Sam embraced his daughter and kissed her forehead, "Gonna miss you, sweetheart. Call me more often, will you? I love you."

"Love you, too, dad." Lizzie's voice muffled against the rumpled sweater of her dad, and Donnie was struck with the pain of separation of family. Donnie saw the heartache etched on Sam's face, and realized how difficult it must be to miss someone, yet at the same time how beautiful that love was. Will he ever receive such love? Will anyone ever miss him?

"Alright, Donald. I'm real glad to have met you and have you at our home. This house is open for you anytime." The trio made their way to the blistery cold winds of the outside world, and Sam extended his arm for a handshake with Donnie before he got into the car.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for everything, I had the best time."

"Take care of yourself. And take a good care of Lizzie, too, will you?"

"Yes, sir. I will."

. . . . . . .

The drive back to the Academy seemed faster than they expected, but nonetheless dreary and bleak. The campus was essentially empty and the previous night's snow had turned all things either icy or muddy. "It's a ghost town," Donnie muttered as he pulled the car into Lizzie's dorm building parking lot.

Despite her strong protest, Donnie insisted on carrying her luggage to the front of the dorm building. And as Lizzie pulled her keys out of her coat pocket, they stood wordlessly on the icy pavement, each trying to figure out how to say goodbye. They may very well have been two school children waiting for the other to leave the sandbox first.

It was Lizzie who ventured out, "So, what is this work you're doing for a professor?"

"Every year there is a publishing opportunity for upper division cadets, offered from the Criminology Department. The professor in charge of submission asked me to assist in cataloguing the thesis proposals collected from students. I had the time and the brains, so how can I turn him down?"

Lizzie chuckled lightly, "Publishing opportunity, huh? That actually sounds pretty amazing. Did you turn in a proposal yourself?"

"Yeah, I did. It's already been accepted." Donnie spoke with such easy nonchalance, that either he didn't fully grasp the recognition, or he had naturally expected it.

"What is your thesis, if I can ask?"

"It's something that I've been interested in for awhile. It's the psyche behind career criminals, specifically those with law enforcement past or background, really delving into why they give up the life of security and choose the life on the run."

Lizzie stood silently, processing what Donnie has said, being lifted into one of those brief time suspended moments when every membrane of her brain was actively connecting, branching, and calculating. "I always found it fascinating that some of these criminals had left their family, just walked out of their wives and children, for Christ's sakes. How does one do that? How does anyone willingly turn their faces from their young children?"

Donnie had been watching Lizzie with a slight raise of an eyebrow. "Lizzie, how would you like to work with me on this thesis? And write the article together?"

"What? Are you serious? No, I can't. I mean, I'm just a first year cadet. No way." Lizzie resisted, but Donnie could see her eyes brighten, and he knew it was inevitable.

"First of all, it's for publishing in the Academy's yearly reference volume. Second of all, the other cadets usually work in groups. I just haven't found someone I wanted to work with. Until now."

Donnie pressed on, "You are a first year, yes. But you're on accelerated program, not to mention brilliant. Plus, it's my thesis proposal, and I choose you as my co-conspirator."

Lizzie looked at him with eyes of uncertainty that were plainly failing at masking happiness. "Donnie, it really sounds like a great opportunity. I mean, I feel excited just thinking about it. I just hope you won't regret asking me. Or regret being overshadowed by my brilliance."

Donnie let out a hearty laugh, "I'm fully expecting to just fetch you coffee while you work. Lizzie, I'm really glad, you have no idea. This is going to be great, we're gonna kick everyone's asses. And just think of our names on that paper." Donnie couldn't put away the smile that, he was sure, looked quite idiotic, but at that moment all he wanted to do was lift her up and kiss her.

"Let's just take one step at a time, and I take two creams, no sugar." Lizzie matched the size of his smile, and the two stood silently for a moment until Lizzie spoke, "Well, then, I guess I'll see you later. Hope the cataloguing won't give you any paper cuts. Bye, Donnie."

Donnie inched closer to her, amidst the amused chuckle. She always had a way of making him laugh. "Hey, um…Lizzie, what are you doing for the New Year's Eve? Do you have any plans?"

"The reason I'm asking is, I was invited to this party, at a professor's house, actually. It's not going to be as stodgy as it sounds, and it's not frat beer party, either. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me." Unbeknownst to Lizzie and to Donald himself, he was holding his breath in anticipation of her response.

"I don't know…"

"Lizzie, it's at a professor's house, so you know there won't be any crazy drunk teenagers. And it's New Year's. We'll have some drinks, and enjoy the time, together." Donnie eyed Lizzie earnestly, hoping to hear in his favor as she mulled it over.

"Well, it is New Year's. I guess…yes, I guess I'll go. Let's just not get drunk on wine and end up on the same bed together."

"What?"

"Nothing. So I guess I'll see you on New Year's Eve. Good bye, Donnie." And Lizzie quickly disappeared behind the building's front door, leaving Donnie behind in icy wind and in utter befuddlement.

. . . . . .

Lizzie threw down her luggage on the floor and let her body fall onto the bed without a shred of resistance. Although the dorm room was cold and grey, she was nonetheless glad to be back in this little corner called her world, her home. Funny that she now felt more at home in this little dorm room than compared to her bedroom at her childhood home. Perhaps she was growing older, shedding things of her childhood, and wanting to gather new memories. There was a part of her that longed to be that little girl holding her dad's hand, but she couldn't deny the energy that swelled in her, thinking of the vast unknowns she wanted to see, to learn, and to experience. Her world was just beginning, and Lizzie was ready to take the plunge into the vast beyond her scope.

She couldn't deny that this surge of fearlessness came in part from the anticipation that she may have a published article, under her name, at one of the most respected institutions in the nation. And all during her first semester, as a first year student. This was beyond her dreams, beyond the unexpected, and completely beyond her initial plan of simple survival mode of first semester. And all this is because of Donnie.

And Donnie. What must she do with him? Lizzie thought back to the morning, lying next to him on her bed. It felt nice to be so close to him, as if being held by him. And she wanted to kiss him, for once not heeding to her fear of consequences or this need to explain her motives. All she wanted was to feel his lips on hers. And she didn't even know why. This feeling was new to her, almost too foreign to comprehend. She has always been careful, and would never engage in anything that she couldn't account for in her reasoning. In fact, she'd scoff at those who availed themselves to foolish things before counting the cost. Yet, here she was, willing to abandon all that, for a kiss.

. . . . . .

Donnie picked her up promptly at ten o'clock on New Year's Eve night. They drove a bit out of town into a suburban area where all the houses began to look massive and impressive. This kind of luxury was never her style or preference. Lizzie had always dreamt of owning a small cozy brick home, a place where a family can gather and rub lives together.

"Here we are. Don't let the massive size intimidate you, the professor is actually a very nice man. And a nice family." Donnie opened the door as Lizzie stepped out onto the brick laid walkway.

They entered the home, and Lizzie was struck with not just the impressive size of the home, but that it was packed with people. For what she can gather, there were professors and cadets all mingling together. Lizzie thought she may have seen Colonel Gundsen and Mrs. Gibbons as well.

"Let's go get some drinks." Donnie led the way as Lizzie followed closely behind. It seemed like he knew his way around this massive home.

"Do you know these people?" Lizzie hung onto Donnie's grey sweater sleeve amidst the throng. Donnie spoke close to her ear, "Hate to say this, but I know most of them. There are some big wigs from the Academy."

Donnie got some cocktail punch, whispering, "Alcoholic beverage is later, just you and me." Then he led her to a corner where they stood with their drinks, trying to make sense of all the noise and the bustle.

"It seems like there are more people this year."

"Oh really? Do you come here every year?"

"Yeah. Um, I know his daughter, she's a friend." Donnie took a sip of the drink, but Lizzie suspected certain hesitation, as if there was something he wasn't telling her.

"So, what usually happens at this party?"

"People just hang out, eat and drink. I think most of them are talking about some research or current cases. Some boring stuff like that. Then there's a countdown at midnight. And the party's over." Donnie snickered. "Oh, by the way, what was that you said about you and me ending up on the same bed after drinking?"

"It's…it's just a saying. You know, like a popular Southern phrase." Lizzie was already at the corner. Is it possible to be backed further into the corner? Why couldn't Donnie ever forget these things?

"I don't think I'm aware of such a phrase. I don't even think such a phrase exists. What does it mean?"

Just when Lizzie detected a knowing grin on Donnie, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Lizzie?"

She turned around, to face a tall young man with brown hair and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He was wearing a handsome smile, and Lizzie stared at him, trying to recollect that face.

"Lizzie, right? From Café Marmalade, just about two months ago? I…I spilled coffee on you."

Yes, Lizzie remembered. And so did Donnie. She sensed Donnie inch closer to her, and he was eyeing the other man, just like he did at the café.

"Oh, yes, I remember you. Tom, right?"

"Yes, I'm glad you remembered," and he turned to Donnie, "I don't think we were introduced. My name is Tom Keen." He offered a handshake, and Donnie obliged out of expectancy. "I'm Donnie Ressler."

"Lizzie, I never received that phone call from you, for your sweater." Tom smiled sweetly, if not too sweetly, but Lizzie saw that his gaze flickered to take notice of Donnie's proximity to her. By now, Donnie's chest was digging into her right arm and shoulder. What has gotten into him?

"Don't worry about that old sweater. It's really not a big deal."

"Are you a student at the Academy?" It sounded like Donnie had barked out that question.

"I guess you could say that. I'm a bit like a loaned property." Tom laughed at the knowledge only he had possessed at the moment.

"Loaned property? Like a library book?" Donnie was up to no good.

"Not quite. I'm on a research fellowship grant from the Naval Academy, it's like a roving scholar type of thing. I'll be at Quantico for the rest of the school year." Tom met Donnie's gaze, and Lizzie could sense something was brewing between them.

"So, Lizzie, what year are you?" Tom returned to Lizzie, and Donnie pursed his lips with lines etched on his face.

"I'm first year. So are you a student at the Naval Academy?"

"Yeah, I'm third year."

"Oh, just like Donnie." But Lizzie had a feeling these two boys will not become best buddies any time soon.

"So, crazy party, huh? I don't know any of these people. I'm glad to see your familiar face." Tom speaking solely to Lizzie did not abide well with Donnie.

"Hey, buddy, how did you get invited to this party?" Donnie fought for the eye contact.

"I came with some friends in the research group. You know, it's New Year's Eve. Didn't feel like being holed up in my dorm room by myself, you know?"

"Oh, you came with friends. Where are they? Maybe they're looking for you." Donnie smiled, all the while the undercurrent implication was not lost on Tom. Lizzie looked at Donnie in disbelief.

"Nah, they're alright. I'd rather talk to the pretty lady." Tom turned to Lizzie again with a mild grin, and she couldn't help blushing at the attention and the compliment. "Oh, wait a minute…I'm sorry. Are you two umm...dating? Because it really didn't look like that to me. I mean, if you are dating, I'll just walk away, man."

Lizzie felt Donnie about to take a step towards Tom, and she shifted her body to dissuade him. She felt the heat radiating through his sweater and knew that Donnie was liable to do something regrettable.

"Donnie!" Just then a woman's voice rang out amongst the mass of people, and Donnie immediately turned his head in search of it. Soon enough, a young petite woman with long brunette hair appeared with a wide smile. She walked quickly to him and eagerly gave him a hug, of which he returned rather passably.

"Donnie, why didn't you tell me you were here? You should've looked for me." She spoke sweetly, while dismissing the presence of the two figures standing by.

"Audrey, I…I had no idea where you were. And you are right, I should've at least gone to your father and thanked him for inviting me." Donnie's demeanor softened towards her, but his compliance was laced with a faint amount of unease. And Audrey had not let go of Donnie's arm, which made Lizzie instinctively take a step away from them.

"Silly, you don't have to thank him, he invites you every year. But come say hi to friends, we're all in the back foyer." Audrey proceeded to pull his arm, much to his slight dismay, and Donnie turned to Lizzie. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere." And just like that, he disappeared amongst the throng.

"Well, what the heck was that all about?" Tom chimed in, "Just exactly who's who in this triangle relationship? Or is it a square? A rhombus? Damn, just insert your own quadrilateral."

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders and managed a smile, "I have no idea."

"I think she's the daughter of the professor who owns this house. That I know." Tom shook his head, then faced Lizzie. "Can I ask you if there's something between you and Donnie? If there is, I'll kick my own ass out of here."

Lizzie wanted to say no, that there was absolutely nothing between her and Donnie. They were friends, just friends. But something made her pause, and Tom saw that.

It was at that moment a loud commotion was heard from somewhere above the house. The whole mass of people started chanting, numbers in fact. "They're starting the countdown." Tom yelled in the midst of the rowdy and roaring voices.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Something propelled Lizzie to go find Donnie, before the countdown was over. She didn't know why, but she didn't have the time to figure it out. She leaned towards Tom's ear and said, "Excuse me." And left him behind as she thrust herself into the crowd, toward the direction Donnie had disappeared to.

Six!

Five!

Four!

Then, just like that, Lizzie saw him. She saw the mop of blond hair struggling to find his way towards her. It was Donnie. When they made eye contact, it was understood that both were headed for each other. Donnie's face brightened into a smile as he kept his eyes on her, and she smiled back. This was becoming quite exhilarating.

Three!

Two!

At that instant, a woman appeared from behind him, and grabbed Donnie by his shoulders. It was Audrey. It must've caught him off guard because he didn't resist her. Not even when she pulled him in for a kiss.

One!

Lizzie turned away from Donnie kissing Audrey, and stood in shock as the mass around her began the joyful celebration of the New Year. People were kissing, hugging, screaming, and dancing. Then she saw a hand that grabbed her arm. It was Tom, and he yelled out, "Let's get out of here."

. . . . . .

**Author's Note: OK…don't hate me…(dodging tomatoes and various other produce thrown my way)…I just didn't think it was their time yet. It's coming, though. I mean, this is a love story, not a friendship story. So…hang it there with me, will ya?**


	8. Chapter 8: The Prize

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 8: The Prize

"I will not be Hermione crying in some staircase in Hogwarts."

Funny what kind of bizarre and ludicrous thoughts pop up during the most unexpected circumstances. Lizzie shook her head, perhaps in an attempt to literally shake off the picture in her head: that stupid Ron Weasley kissing that stupid Lavender Brown after the Quidditch game. There should be a study that compiles these outlandish and oddball first thoughts of people, Lizzie considered. And she was certain this very moment will be on the top of the most laughable list.

All she wanted to do was walk away. Just walk away. She wasn't going to yell at him, as if he's done something grossly wrong against her. In truth, he didn't do anything wrong. Donnie has every right to do whatever he wants. She has absolutely no say in it. Donnie didn't owe her anything, and she didn't owe him anything. After all, they were just friends. Just friends. She had no reason or cause to be feeling anything but absolutely neutral. Whatever he chooses to do, doesn't affect her one bit.

. . . . . .

"Lizzie…"

All Donnie could see was the shape of two people walking up ahead, a woman and a man who was holding her elbow as they hurriedly made their way. Just the sight of that touch boiled Donnie, and he picked up his pace, almost to a sprint.

"Lizzie!"

Donnie finally caught up to them, but Lizzie did not acknowledge him nor halted. He expected that, and just as he was about to grab her arm, Tom stepped in his way.

"Hey, what's your deal?" Tom shook his head and sneered at Donnie, as Lizzie continued walking down the street. "Kissing one beautiful girl wasn't enough for you, buddy?"

Donnie stopped in his tracks and faced Tom with a glaring swagger, "You better stay out of my way, buddy."

"It seems like someone else needs to stay out of the way. I was just going to drive her home."

"There's no way in hell I'm going to let her get into your car." Just the thought agitated Donnie, and he stepped closer to Tom, closing in the proximity to stress the menace.

However, Tom responded with a low laughter, "It doesn't seem like you have a say in what happens to her. Not according to her, anyway." He continued in his derisive laughter, "Hey man, it looks like she's had enough of you tonight. Take my advice, just go home and cool off."

"First of all, don't ever speak for her. And the only reason why I won't let you get to me is that just as she's walking right now, she's thinking about me. Not you."

"Yeah, I'm sure she's thinking about you. Doubt they're good thoughts, though." Tom grinned, knowing that both of them can agree on that truth.

Donnie had been unnerved by Tom, even from their first encounter, and tonight's confrontation just solidified his wary suspicions. "I'm going to say this only once. Stay the hell away from her." And with that, Donnie gave him a last look, then turned to run after Lizzie.

. . . . . .

Lizzie had walked a good two blocks when Donnie had caught up to her. She wasn't aware how much she had walked, but the icy cold wind and the frost forming at the tip of her nose provided a nice temporary distraction. She didn't know where she was going, but the general direction of a straight line had sufficed for now.

"Lizzie, please stop. Talk to me." Donnie had initially relegated himself to walk next to her, but her reluctance to acknowledge him, coupled with his impatience, forced him to grab her arm. "Lizzie, I'm sorry."

"Donnie, you have nothing to be sorry about." Lizzie finally stopped walking and turned to him, in an unexpected mildness that only alarmed Donnie. He would've preferred that she had just yelled at him, so that at least he got what he deserved, and he would gladly endure it if it made her feel better.

"Lizzie, I'm sorry that…"

"Really, you don't owe me an apology."

"I want you to know that I really did want to…I mean, I didn't know Audrey was going to…" Donnie stammered as if his emotions were running a mile ahead of his words. "Look, Audrey and I…we dated for a year, but we broke up. I have no feelings for her, she's not the girl for me. Now we're just…friends, I suppose. But she shouldn't have done what she did tonight."

"So, you basically brought me to your ex-girlfriend's house, to watch you kiss your ex-girlfriend." Lizzie knew her words had stung, but she refused to regret it. She wouldn't have gone to the party had she known it'd be at the home of Donnie's ex-girlfriend. How convenient that detail was omitted.

"Lizzie, how can you say that? Is that how you really think of me?" Donnie was visibly rattled, and Lizzie couldn't deny the pang of regret that reared against her resistance. "Lizzie, I'm going to ask you to choose your words wisely, unless you did intend to throw those daggers that just gutted my heart."

Donnie and Lizzie stood silently, both seemingly unable to speak what was truly on their minds. Lizzie broke in quietly, "Donnie, I'm not upset at you. We're just…friends, after all. I have no say in what you want to do."

"Really? Is that what you really think?"

Lizzie looked at Donnie, whose eyes had now taken on a look of cold determination that suddenly filled her with unease of what was coming next. She should've chosen her words more wisely.

"Do you really think you have no say in what I do? So, you must think that I could be reckless, or do something real stupid, and you'd have no say in that. Lizzie, I don't think you believe your own words. I mean, after all that we've…how can you not know how I feel about you?"

"Donnie, what is it that you want me to say? That I'm upset and disappointed that you kissed another girl? That I'm jealous? That I'll never forgive you for choosing her over me? That I'll…"

"I didn't choose her over you." Donnie cut in, with a hushed voice, but Lizzie chose not to pay attention to it.

"Donnie, I'm not going to be your Hermione."

"What?"

"What I mean is, I'm not that girl who's going to cry over these things. And clearly, your ex-girlfriend is not over her feelings for you, which has now become none of my business."

"But I don't care about Audrey, not like that, and not ever. Lizzie, it's you that I…"

"If you don't mind, it's late and I need to get back home. So, excuse me." And Lizzie just had to walk away, past Donnie, and onto wherever that road led to. She just needed to go.

"Lizzie, don't do this." Donnie extended his hand to grab her or to touch her, but it didn't quite make it. It was clear that Lizzie's words had made a deep cut, and he stood motionlessly, hunched over in dejection and heartache. It wasn't until few moments later that Donnie caught up to Lizzie.

"Let me at least drive you home. You're thirty miles from your dorm room."

. . . . . .

Lizzie spent the rest of the week reading her course textbooks for the upcoming curriculum, a bit of an old habit since her grade school days. In fact, she has never let it known that she quite enjoyed this little "tradition" of hers, being hidden in her quiet room reading, while others threw snowballs outside. But this time, it was different. Lizzie felt her mind constantly distracted and her thoughts wandering, and in the deep recess of her resistance and chagrin, she knew the source. It was that Donnie never called her. Not even once. Perhaps she was his Hermione after all, and will end up crying in some dark staircase somewhere.

By the weekend before the classes resumed again, Jane finally made her way back to the Academy, looking happily rested and blissfully eager. She had hardly unpacked when the most imperative and paramount event had to take place first, to be held at the designated place of the most undisclosed reverence. The girl talk, on Lizzie's bed.

Lizzie shared about Donnie coming to her home for the Christmas, as well as the New Year's Eve party they attended together. Although she withheld the wine incident from Jane, Lizzie spoke in detail of her last conversation with Donnie.

"Woah…I'm speechless. Donnie Ressler at your house, eating dinner with your dad…sleeping only a few feet away. You are either the luckiest girl or…yup, you are the luckiest girl."

"Jane, he's just a friend."

"Really? What friend do you bring home for Christmas? What friend do you kiss on New Year's Eve?"

"We didn't kiss." Lizzie didn't mean to sound so dejected just now. She hadn't figured out how she truly felt about that missed kiss, or perhaps she didn't have the courage to admit that she was disappointed.

"It sure seems like Donnie wanted to kiss you. Until that Audrey hijacked it. In any case, you shouldn't have been so harsh on him." Jane took notice of Lizzie's grimace. "Lizzie, Donnie likes you, he has feelings for you. When are you going to accept that? Why are you fighting it so much? You make it so difficult for him."

"He has never told me he has feelings for me."

"Well, did you even give him a chance to say it? Or did you talk over him, like you usually do when you're upset?"

In the matters of the heart, Jane was surprisingly the voice of reason. "I may have talked over him."

"That poor Donnie. Didn't even get a chance from the fair lady to profess his undying love…"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic." Lizzie threw a pillow at Jane while laughing. However that laughter was momentary as Lizzie felt the deep pang of sorrow in her heart. "You're right, I was too harsh on him. I shouldn't have said most of it, or any of it."

"Yup, you've pretty much ripped his heart. Gutted, destroyed, obliterated, annihilated…"

"I got the point, all of it. What should I do? Would it do any good if I apologized?"

"It wouldn't hurt. And then after the big smooch, proceed to ride off the sunset."

. . . . . .

Lizzie had made up her mind to talk to Donnie after the Behavior Analysis class, hoping she'll be able to spot him in the quad. She had resolved not to heed to her torrential nerves, and despite every fiber of her being resisting, she was determined to talk to him. Everything that Jane had said was true, and her behavior towards Donnie was absolutely thoughtless and heartless, and in the least merited an apology. What she decided to not pay attention to was that she had simply missed him. Lizzie missed his humor, how he made her laugh like no other. And she missed that smile of his, and couldn't forgive herself for the hurt look on his face as she walked away from him that night.

After the class, Lizzie stayed behind on the quad lawn outside the lecture hall, glancing at every blond haired cadet that walked by. She spotted him soon after, and he was walking with two other male cadets. When Donnie saw her, he left his friends and walked briskly towards her.

"Hi." Donnie spoke first. He attempted a smile, but it was strained and careful. Lizzie hasn't seen Donnie for a week, but at that moment she was suddenly reminded of the hug they shared in the kitchen supply closet. She knew now why she had hugged him. It was because she missed him, and that she needed him.

"How are you, Lizzie?"

"I'm good, getting busy with classes again. How about you?"

"Well, I've been pretty busy working for that professor, you know, cataloguing the thesis proposals. Happy to report that none of those pesky paper cuts were committed. Much obliged for your concern." Lizzie chuckled lightly, and she saw that Donnie's smile was looking a bit more relaxed.

"Look, Donnie, I wanted to say that…well, that night…I should've…"

"So, when should we start working?" Donnie cut in abruptly, much to her surprise. It was as if he knew what she was about to say. Or did he? Whatever it was, Donnie deliberately chose not to hear it.

"Working on what?"

"The article, to get published in the Academy reference journal? We only have two months, so we should start on the research soon." Donnie's face took on a sober and determined composition, and Lizzie knew then and there that he wasn't having whatever she wanted to give him. And she wasn't about to push it.

"Umm…yes, the article…I suppose we could start this week, today even."

"Great, that's what I was thinking. The research is very extensive, and will take the bulk of the time. I'm hoping we can meet everyday, especially on weekends. Lizzie, I need your commitment on this, I want to count on you. I'm determined to get published this year."

"Donnie, you can count on me. I want this as much as you do."

Thus began the beautiful academic relationship. Lizzie realized that if there were ever two people who can turn off emotions like a light switch, their very names would be inscribed on that tome. They met every single day at the library, with a natural preference for third floor, though both did not ever acknowledge why. Lizzie was usually there first by early evening, deep amongst the books and mired in her laptop, and Donnie faithfully brought her a cup of coffee, with two creams, no sugar. Their dinners consisted of whatever looked and smelled the best at the student union, and they were liable to smuggle in bags of chips into the library on any given day.

Donnie was pleased to find that not only can Lizzie match his intensity and drive, but she can far outrun him and leave him behind in the dust. He was no match for her, yet a perfect foil for her ambitions. Donnie felt pushed and challenged by her sheer focus and intelligence, and he found this to be undeniably attractive, which perhaps was the first thing he had like about her from the beginning.

Unbeknownst to Lizzie, Donnie had to exert a fair amount of will to not just gaze into her delicate face each day. He had already counted that there were four freckles on her nose, and observed that her deep blue eyes had a lace of violet around them. Sometimes her long brunette hair lightly touched upon his arm, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to brush it away from her face without recoil. And he wondered how it would feel to have that one love returned to him.

. . . . . .

"Hey, Lizzie! Wait up!"

Lizzie recognized the voice and turned around to see Donnie, who was running toward her direction on the campus quad. The first semester was coming to a close, and she was headed to the library to study for the finals. The article had been completed, as in written and edited countless times, and was submitted to the Academic Standards Board a week ago.

"Just got word that Colonel Stanton wants to see us in his office at three o'clock today."

"Colonel Stanton, as in the Director of Academics? Why?" Lizzie, ever the fatalist, became alarmed at the unexpected appointment.

"Relax, Lizzie. I'm thinking it's about our article. Hopefully it's good news." And with a reassuring smile, Donnie led Lizzie toward the Academy Main Hall.

. . . . . . .

Donnie knocked on the glass door gently, and they waited until a white-haired tall portly man in a uniform appeared in view. Lizzie had seen Colonel Stanton but had never spoken to him, and she was feeling intimidated and uneasy at his considerable presence.

"Donnie, Lizzie, good. Come in." They stepped into the office as Colonel Stanton held the door. His office was large and cluttered, with framed pictures of old men, all in a serious thought.

"Sit down, please. Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Your article was impeccable, to say the least, and it has been approved to be published in our yearly reference journal. Congratulations, again. You should feel very proud of yourselves. Good job, both of you." And with that, Colonel Stanton stood and offered both of them a handshake, which they dazily obliged.

Lizzie and Donnie filed out of his office in silence, and likewise filed out of the building in silence. They walked a few feet on the quad lawn, but it wasn't until they were in the secluded walkway underneath a tree that they finally faced each other.

"I can't believe it." Donnie spoke first, and his face was visibly ashen, presumably caused by shock.

"Me neither. We did it. We really did it. Unless this is a dream, but how can we both be in a dream together? That would defy the logic of the individuality of dreams which states that…" Lizzie stopped speaking once she realized she was rambling, and Donnie wasn't listening to her either.

"We're going to be published." Donnie turned to Lizzie, "Our names are going to be on that page."

"The Annual Academy Reference Journal." Lizzie completed his thought, still feeling incredulous.

"After all those hours at the library, eating cardboard food, all of our weekends poured into this…we did it. We're going to be published."

As the hazy film from the shock wore off, and as the realization flooded in that all this was being operated in reality, an uncontrolled smile invaded both of their faces. Lizzie wasn't sure if she has ever experienced this kind of happiness before. It was pure bliss, an unadulterated, untouched, unhindered bliss. She turned to Donnie, her co-conspirator, and suddenly felt this surge of emotion towards him. She didn't know what to label it, but the closest she could think of was love.

And the next thing she knew, Lizzie had thrown herself into Donnie's arms in a tight embrace, and he lifted her up in response. This was an incredible feat, and it was all because of Donnie. She felt as though she loved him, and she whispered into his ear, "Thank you."

Donnie slowly let her down upon the ground, but he didn't let her go and held her in his arms. Lizzie did not resist either, and she left her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Their faces were a mere breath away, and Donnie spoke softly, "No, I should be the one to thank you. You are amazing." Then Donnie gently brushed away a wisp of hair that was dancing over Lizzie's eyes, but his hand softly lingered on her cheek, just as she closed her eyes as his nose hesitantly glided against hers.

. . . . . .

**Author's Note: Just a quick note :) Today is officially my last day of break from school, so I won't be able to update as often (but will try my best!). I am having a blast writing this fanfic, though! Love writing Donnie, my voice of reason. Thanks for all the support!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Confession

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 9: The Confession

"I'm sorry."

And with that, Donnie let her go. He retracted his hands off of her waist, and hesitantly took a step away from her, giving her space if she wanted it. His face was fighting against a grimace, and it put on a brave smile instead, however strained.

Lizzie felt as though something had slipped out of her hands, and opened her eyes with an alarming fear of what she might find in the visible world. And there it was: an unsettling distance between Donnie and herself, a gulf of confusion, and no words to bridge the disarray.

"No, you don't have to be sorry…" This was all Lizzie can gather up within her muddled mind. Just a moment ago, she was in the warmth of Donnie's arms, waiting and wanting to be kissed by him.

"Umm…I should get going. I have a study session tonight. Bye, Lizzie." Donnie gave a nod and a last look, then ran off across the campus lawn, quickly disappearing into the grey of the early sunset. Lizzie stared at his decreasing presence, watching him run away from her, and taking her heart with him. What just happened?

. . . . . .

The finals exams had overtaken the entire Academy for full two weeks, rendering just about every cadet thoroughly absorbed in their studies and preparations. And Lizzie was no different. First and foremost, Lizzie was an academician in essence, and the timing of the finals sessions could not have been more perfect to provide the perfect distraction in her heart. She spent the two weeks singularly focused in her studies, and the dam of her emotions was held behind the strong walls of her will. Lizzie did not make any attempts to see Donnie, nor did he. Perhaps they were cut from the same fiber: always placing studies first. Or that both had chosen to deliberately avoid the mess of the heart strings.

But it came usually at the end of the night, when Lizzie was safely tucked away in her bed did the emotions flowed in without reserve or warning. The last thoughts before falling into sleep had always been of Donnie, his arms holding her and his lips a breath away. Lizzie had lifted her face a slight, to meet his lips. At that moment, she felt as though she loved him. Is that what love feels like? How does love feel like? Did she love Donnie? What does it mean when she can't answer any of these questions? And she wondered how Donnie felt about any of this. What is he thinking, even now?

. . . . . . .

Lizzie didn't hear from Donnie until a week after the finals, when he called to say that he'll pick her up from her dorm to attend the journal publishing ceremony. That night, fifteen of the Academy professors were being recognized as contributors to the Annual Reference Journal, and the two cadets were included as student contributors. It was a formality ceremony, and the two would be seated on the stage at the auditorium, along with the professors.

Donnie promptly came to her dorm building at half an hour before the ceremony. When she first saw him through the glass door, the last memory of him running across the quad lawn flashed across her mind. And undetected by Donnie, she paused before opening the door, telling herself that the kiss was simply not meant to be. Lizzie resorted to the logic of facts: what is seen, as opposed to what is unseen. What was seen was that Donnie did not kiss her. And she wouldn't dare bear her heart to what was unseen, that Donnie did not want to kiss her.

"Hi, Donnie." Lizzie made her way out of the building, putting on a smile, but it came surprisingly easy for her when Donnie looked at her. He was dressed in a black suit, the same suit he wore for the Governor's Dinner. Lizzie wore a black dress, and even in her eyes complimented quite well with him.

"Hey, Lizzie. You look great." Donnie smiled warmly, as he usually does with Lizzie. "Ready for two hours of bore?"

"It won't be that bad." Lizzie couldn't help to chuckle as they naturally and comfortably settled in their usual banter.

"Bunch of old professors and their speeches…sooner or later, you'll be looking for a needle to poke yourself in the eye, to alleviate the boredom."

"Donnie…"

"Or a bottle of tequila to numb the pain."

"Donnie…"

"At least a game of sudoku. Or whatever people play these days sitting on the toilet."

"Oh, come on."

"Well, there's gotta be something we could smuggle up there. They'll probably seat us in the last row, next to the curtains."

Lizzie shook her head in laughter. "I actually don't mind sitting behind the curtains. I just want to get this thing over with. As long as our names are on the page of the journal, I don't care for this fanfare."

"Yeah, behind the curtains. Should we spend the whole time just making out behind the curtains? To see if anyone notices?"

"What?" Lizzie turned to Donnie, incredulous at his comment and waiting for his mind to inevitably catch up to his mouth.

"Um, what I meant was…nobody cares about two lowly cadets who got two pages of the Journal. We might as well sit cross-eyed, and nobody would notice. That's what I meant." Donnie shifted in obvious discomfiture, and Lizzie mercilessly laughed at him. He decided to change the subject, "So, what classes are you taking this semester? Any upper div?"

"No upper div this semester, couldn't fit it into general intro classes. I am taking my very first field tactical training class. Can't wait to go all John McClane bad ass."

"Your very first field tactical…that should be very fun. Knowing you, you could probably assemble AK47 in your sleep." Donnie playfully jabbed at Lizzie's arm, and even that slight touch left a warm mark reverberating in her heart.

"No assembly of firearms yet. We're just beginning tactical strategies and field offense. And by the way, you wouldn't believe who is my training officer."

"Who?" Lizzie was sure she detected a hint of alarm cross Donnie's face just then.

"Tom Keen. It's strange how we just run into each other."

As soon as the words escaped Lizzie's mouth, Donnie's face instantly took on lines of agitation and apprehension. "Tom Keen is your T.O.?"

"I know…what a coincidence."

"Tom Keen doesn't even look like he'd be tactical. He looks more like books and reports, with those pretentious glasses of his."

"Donnie…"

"And did you choose him as your T.O.? How exactly did he, or all people, become your T.O.?" Donnie was now becoming visibly perturbed, and quite insistent on getting some answers. Lizzie still didn't understand this brewing dynamics between them.

"I was assigned to him. And Donnie, what is the matter with you? What is this you have against Tom?"

By the long pause he took, it looked as if Donnie was considering just exactly what he should bring to the surface. Putting aside his flaring instincts, it may have been Tom's intentional condescending remarks, this sudden strange attachment he shows towards Lizzie, or his resolute disregard for the obvious claim that Donnie had over Lizzie. Donnie had made clear that he had feelings for her, but Tom brazenly ignored it without even a hint of apology or concern. Not only that, but the casual way that he touched Lizzie boiled Donnie, and to think that she was about to get into Tom's car and be driven by him after the New Year's party.

At that moment, they had arrived at the Academy Arts Auditorium, and already a considerable number of people were filing in. Donnie stopped walking and turned to Lizzie, holding both of her arms with his hands so that they were facing each other.

"Lizzie, this is going to sound crazy…but please promise me that you'll stay away from him." Donnie's face visibly softened with concern and burden.

"Donnie, he's my training officer. I can't stay away from him." Lizzie couldn't believe how serious Donnie had become.

"Lizzie…just don't meet up with him outside of class. And don't get into his car."

"Now you're sounding crazy paranoid. Donnie, do you hear yourself?"

"Lizzie, please…"

"Donnie, I need you to stop this, whatever this is. Tom is not this deranged hit man you make him out to be. Tom is a student from the Naval Academy, who happens to not only be a brilliant scholar but an expert field officer."

"Lizzie…"

"Now, we have to get inside. Let's go."

. . . . . .

Lizzie hardly spoke a word to Donnie during the ceremony as they were seated next to professors, and indeed, in the last row. However it was more than evident that Donnie was not in a sociable mood as his face wore a grim furrow upon his forehead the entire two hours. Lizzie knew the source of those lines, but chose not to acknowledge it. Donnie was being overly protective, to the point of being paranoid. She didn't see Tom as the type she should be warned about, and if anything, Donnie was acting like a jealous boyfriend, minus the little essential detail of him not being her boyfriend.

During the walk back to her dorm, Donnie asked Lizzie to have lunch with him the next day, and insisted that he will pick her up from her tactical training class. It'd have been more convenient to meet at the Student Union, but Lizzie relented to Donnie's plan. She knew what he was doing. Donnie wanted to check up on her, and although it was highly ludicrous, Lizzie knew it was something Donnie just had to do for himself.

. . . . . . .

"Isn't that Donnie?"

Tom threw a glance toward the center door, and Lizzie followed his gaze. Indeed, it was Donnie taking a seat at the waiting area overlooking the tactical training site. He was early. Figures.

"He must be here to check up on you." Tom muttered with a slight snicker. He was showing Lizzie how to stand ground in defensive stance, and as he threw a last look at Donnie, Tom's hand was firmly planted on her lower back. "Just remember, your strength has to come from your abdomen and your back. You loosen those areas, you'll be down in seconds."

"Got it." Lizzie's mind was too occupied with the lesson that she hadn't realized how Tom's hand had now travelled from her lower back to her shoulder, with his body mere inches from her.

"Is he always this possessive of you?" Tom had now turned his back on Donnie, and was shielding his view of Lizzie.

"What?"

"Donnie. Even at the New Year's party, he just had this odd vibe over you. And now he's clearly here to check up on you. He's acting like a jealous boyfriend, without being the actual boyfriend." Tom let out a derisive snicker, and Lizzie took notice of his faint condescending tone. However, she had to agree about the boyfriend tidbit.

"No, Donnie's just looking out for me. We're just going to have lunch after."

"Yeah, I mean, it's clear that you don't have any feelings for him. Poor guy, when is he ever going to learn?"

"Excuse me?"

Tom had a warm smile fixed upon his face, "I just feel like I get a sister-brother vibe from you guys. Donnie is trying to get romantic, but I don't see it happening. There is just no heat between you two."

Lizzie was taken quite aback by these sentiments. Is that how others perceive of Donnie and her? "You think that, huh?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Plus if he's truly interested in you, he'd have made a move already. But, to his defense, he most likely didn't make a move because Lizzie, you're just not that interested in him."

"Tom, I know exactly how I feel towards Donnie." Lizzie couldn't understand why her first reaction to Tom's comments was becoming defensive. She also did not like how Tom was talking about Donnie.

"Well, knowing often does not align with feeling. Isn't that the basis of behavior analysis? Look, Lizzie, I'm your friend and I'm just telling you what I see. Take my advice, if you want to. Don't try to make something out of nothing. In the end, it'd just be a waste of time."

At the end of the session, Lizzie walked out to the waiting area, and surprisingly Tom followed. Donnie stood up from his chair as soon as he saw them approaching, and Lizzie detected that Donnie was none too pleased.

"Hey, Donnie. How are you, man? Haven't seen you since the New Year's party." Tom's big grin was unfortunately but expectedly not mirrored on Donnie's face.

"Tom." Donnie gave him a curt nod instead, and dismissively turned to Lizzie. "You ready, Lizzie?"

"So, Donnie, what brings you here, buddy? Lunch with Lizzie, but I swear I get the feeling you're here to check up on her."

By now, Donnie had his hand lightly on Lizzie's elbow, with an intent to usher her out of the building. He did not reply to Tom, but Lizzie could see Donnie was tempted.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you don't have to worry about Lizzie. She's actually a pretty bad ass, she could take care of herself. But, I'll do you a favor. I'll keep an eye on her for ya."

Lizzie did not know what Tom was trying to do, but Donnie turned around to look at him. "Speaking of, I was surprised you were in tactical. You don't come across as a guy who can think quickly on his feet, and know when to go offense or defense. Just the way you talk, you seem just too hot headed to have control. I mean, control is the basis of all tactical training, isn't it?"

Tom nodded in agreement, with a grin intact. "Control is indeed the basis of tactical training, you're right. But so is strategy, meaning how you play the game mentally is just as essential as physical display. Maybe I have the edge on the mental game."

"You don't know what your advantages are, until the other side allows you to see what they've got."

"True, but instincts have great merit. My training as a profiler comes in handy in that case."

"And it's no wonder why profiling is often dismissed in favor of facts. Facts have won wars, not theories, perceptions, or little mental inklings."

At this point, Lizzie stepped forward and grabbed Donnie's arm, pulling him towards the door of the site. "Donnie, let's go. I'm famished, I need to get lunch." She needed to put an end to this heated exchange, and while Donnie followed reluctantly, he did not forgo a last glare towards Tom.

As they stepped outside, Tom's voice was heard from behind, "Lizzie, I'll see you on Saturday!"

Donnie sharply turned to Lizzie, "What's on Saturday?"

And Lizzie continued pulling him, muttering, "Nothing."

. . . . . .

Two months of the second semester went by, and Lizzie saw Donnie a lot more often than in the past. They almost had a routine patted down, with Donnie picking her up from her tactical training class for lunch after, which was everyday accept for Monday. On some days, they grabbed dinner at the Student Union and studied at the library. Jane has mercilessly teased her that the entire campus viewed them as a couple already, and that they should just make it official. Although Lizzie wouldn't admit to anyone, it hadn't gone unnoticed that Donnie had become quite affectionate and tender towards her. However silly and miniscule, but Lizzie's favorite part of the day was when they walked up the stairs to the Student Union, and Donnie would always place his hand on her back to guide her.

But in the deep recesses of her mind, Lizzie could not forget what Tom had said, as much as she tried to dismiss it. Perhaps Donnie is being tender and protective of her because he truly sees her as a sister type, someone younger whom he's just looking out for. Perhaps this tenderness is not romantic, but of heightened friendship, or even some asinine male competition between Donnie and Tom. Perhaps Tom is right, that there is no real heat between them. And all this is just her own girlie longings and interpretations.

. . . . . .

In the month of March, there was an annual student trip to the FBI Headquarters, located in Washington, D.C. It was a big three-day event with seven institutions attending, consisting of facility tours, workshops, and greeting sessions with some of the top FBI officials. It was certainly a trip that all cadets looked forward to, but only the top twenty-five students were eligible to attend. As expected, Lizzie was qualified to attend, and so was Donnie.

Unfortunately, Lizzie did not see Donnie at all during the entire trip due to the group being separated according to their year. Lizzie spotted Donnie only a few times, most of them across some distance, and Donnie had waved and smiled at her. Even their eating times and hotel locations were separated, and Lizzie relented to the fact that she'll have to talk with Donnie when they get back to the Academy.

On the last night of the trip, there was an event called a "mixer", which was just a glorified word for a party with all the other students from different academic institutions and colleges. Her hotel suite mate, Celeste, had tried to talk Lizzie into going, but to no avail. A party event of over two hundred people just did not appeal to Lizzie, and as Celeste dejectedly left by herself that night, Lizzie decided that she'd try out the hotel swimming pool instead.

After an hour of swimming at the hotel pool, Lizzie made her way up to her room in her sopping wet t-shirt. The only thing consuming her mind was taking a long hot shower when she detected a figure sitting on the floor of her hotel hallway, with his back against her own hotel room door. It was Donnie.

"Donnie." Startled by his presence, all that Lizzie could do was to utter his name.

"Hey." Donnie quickly got to his feet, and a smile of relief filled his face, "Didn't see you at the mixer."

"Yeah, well, you know you won't find me at one of those things." Lizzie walked closer to him, fishing for her hotel room key in her pocket. "How did you know where my hotel room was?"

"I asked around. I asked just about every first year girls, until I found Celeste. She looked a bit startled that I was looking for you." Donnie and Lizzie shared a small laughter, with Lizzie adding, "I'd have loved to see you amongst the throng of first year girls, how perfectly awkward and odd that must've been."

"It…was worth it." Donnie mumbled sheepishly, and Lizzie tried her best to suppress a blushing warm sensation creeping onto her face.

"So, do you want to come in for a bit? But technically, I can't let any boys in. In fact, boys are barred from this entire floor. I can't believe you made it this far without getting grabbed by the collar and shoved out."

"Well, I didn't see a soul in this entire building. Everyone must be at the mixer, except for us two lonely losers."

Amidst of her laughter, Lizzie opened the door. "Come in, then. Let me take a quick shower first."

. . . . . .

When Lizzie walked out of the bathroom wearing a tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms, she found Donnie fast asleep on her bed, with the TV on at a sports channel.

"Figures." Lizzie muttered as she grabbed a book and gently plunked herself down on the bed next to the sleeping figure.

. . . . . .

Donnie felt his body twitch as his eyes fluttered open. For a second, he didn't know where he was, until he saw Lizzie lying next to him, on her side and with her back against him. She did not stir a bit, and Donnie figured she was deep in sleep. He saw that she was clutching a book, and he gently released it from her hands and placed it on the nightstand by the bed, but not before reading the title, "The Neurosis of the Depraved Psychosis." To which he muttered, "Figures."

Donnie fixed his eyes back on the sleeping figure. She was crouched with her back to him, and he noticed that her hair was still slightly damp, so he must've not slept for long. He leaned closer to Lizzie, taking in a gentle waft of something floral in the air. Donnie stared at the peripheral view of her face, and he was taken aback by her delicate beauty, as he always had. But tonight, in that close proximity, Donnie had to fight his own volition to just touch her, to touch her beauty, her softness, and her spell that he was under. Donnie knew that he loved her. He knew that he was in love with her.

He thought back at the time they've hugged after finding out they were going to be published. They were so elated then. And every fiber of his being wanted to kiss her then and there, and he felt her leaning into him as well. But then what? What would that kiss lead to? Lizzie was overwhelmed with happiness at being published, and Donnie didn't want their kiss to be just an end product of those circumstantial sentiments. It would break his heart to think that Lizzie would regret that kiss, that she would feel misled. Or worse, that she'd think he had taken advantage of the situation.

No, Donnie wanted their kiss to solely mean that they loved each other. Donnie wanted Lizzie to kiss him back because she felt the same way as he did for her. He couldn't bear it if it was anything otherwise.

He gazed at her bare shoulder, and ever so gently and slightly, he placed his hand like a feather falling upon a pillow, and softly caressed the rounded contour. Lizzie was still asleep when he leaned in, and placed a faint kiss upon her bare shoulder. Her skin felt warm and smooth under his lips, and in silence he confessed that she was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

Donnie let his hand to timidly graze over to the nape of her neck, and there he placed another faint kiss, confessing in silence that he was in love with her. From the first moment he saw her, he knew his heart had belonged to her.

When he lifted his face, he was met by piercing blue eyes that were now watching him intently. Lizzie was awake, and she was aware that Donnie had just kissed her. No words came from her, but her eyes were locked with his, who in turn was reading her face for even a slightest of reaction. But all she did was turn her body to face him and nestled into his chest, and Donnie, feeling like being taken for a ride along the heavenly wave, leaned down and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was tentative and careful at first, but as his lips sought and traced over her lips, Lizzie kissed him back in a tender urgency that Donnie felt he could fall into regardless of depth. His hand cradled her face as he tasted her soft lips, just as Lizzie's hand was on the nape of his neck, gently caressing his hair in her fingers. The kiss was not long, and they pulled apart wordlessly.

It was Lizzie who spoke first, in a hushed whisper. "I don't care what Tom says."

"What?"

"I mean, you better go before Celeste gets back."

"Oh, right." With that, Donnie got up from her bed slowly, and walked over to the door with Lizzie following closely behind him.

But before he turned the door knob, Donnie turned around and kissed Lizzie one more time, drawing her into his arms and capturing her soft lips with his. As he pulled away, he whispered, "Are you sure you want me to go?"

"Yes." That was her reply, and she didn't change her mind as Donnie walked out of the door.

As Lizzie closed the door behind him, she breathed a heavy sigh. They have kissed. Now what?

. . . . . .

**Author's Note: Dang it…realized that I just have a hard time writing kissing scenes. Everything I wanna say sounds cheesy, and I hate cheesy, and I absolutely refuse to write anything cheesy. Dang it.**

**Anyways, the much-waited new episode of the Blacklist ROCKED! Was it just me, but didn't Liz and Ressler seem more comfortable with each other? Like they're actually chummy. Ressler's character is evolving, too. The writers are definitely "humanizing" him, and hopefully to get him ready for Keensler romance. Haha.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Encounter

Behavior Analysis

Chapter 10: The Encounter

"Lizzie, you wouldn't believe what I'm about to tell you."

The flight back from the conference was delayed for five hours, and Lizzie had hardly entered her dorm room when Tom had called her, and insisted upon coming to see her that day. He had wanted to share some news, and it just could not have waited. Begrudgingly Lizzie obliged, and she was able to squeeze in a shower and fresh set of clothes before meeting Tom at the entrance of her dorm room. She let him in into the dorm lounge area, and they were now seated on the plush couch by the window.

"What is it?"

"You've been accepted." Tom shifted closer to Lizzie on the couch, and by the gleeful smile on his face, she had thought he was about to hug her.

"To what?"

"Now, hear me out. I'm going back to the Naval Academy at the end of the semester, and during the three months of the summer I've been granted a research fellowship at the Academy. It's a very prestigious fellowship group, and they only accept the cream of the crop. I mean, if you can get in, it's considered a huge privilege. You get to meet some big wigs in politics, and travel all over the country, all expenses paid. Plus, at the end, you get a fat stipend. It's pretty incredible."

"Ok…so what does that got to do with me?"

"Well, I didn't tell you this, but the admission professor is actually my mentor, and I submitted your name for a possible candidate. I gave you a glowing reference, plus your academic records and your published article, and well…the rest is history. Lizzie, they've accepted your application, and you're in! How incredible is that?"

Lizzie was rendered completely speechless. She didn't know whether to hug him, or be furious at him for submitting her name without her knowledge. Lizzie had planned to take summer courses at the Academy, but admittedly the fellowship research sounded quite exciting and challenging.

"But, I'm not a student at the Naval Academy."

"Well, the Naval Academy and the FBI Academy are interconnected, which even allowed me to be here this year. They are able to issue a student registration permit for the summer."

"I don't know, Tom…"

"Did you make any plans for the summer? Knowing you, I would think you had your entire four years mapped out."

"Well, I was going to take summer courses here."

"Lizzie, you have no idea what kind of privileged and rare opportunity had been given to you. You can't possibly turn this down, for some summer courses here. This will also look great on your academic transcripts. I mean, this will elevate you above just about everyone else. It may even give you an edge over Donnie."

Why did he have to say Donnie's name? Lizzie had not seen Donnie since last night, at her hotel room. They had separate flights, but he did call to set up a lunch date for the next day. Instantly, Lizzie was startled by her own thought. Did she just call it a date?

"Lizzie?"

"Umm, yeah?"

"So, should I call them to let them know that you've accepted the fellowship?"

"I…well…it is three months…"

"Lizzie, I can't understand this. I'd think that you would be hugging me to thank me. This is a pretty big deal, you'd be a fool to turn it down."

"I know, and I do feel really grateful for you, Tom. Thank you so much for all that you've done. I just think I should talk to my dad first."

"Alright, well, just let me know by next week."

. . . . . .

The next day, after much needed sleep and rest, Lizzie had called her dad to let him know that she'll be coming home for two days. She didn't inform him about the research fellowship, but had fibbed that she was feeling homesick. Lizzie had purchased the metro subway ticket, and planned to travel to home the next morning. But today, she had to endure a much difficult task: lunch with Donnie.

Lizzie hadn't seen Donnie since their kiss in her hotel room two days ago, and she couldn't deny the feeling of certain unease. She didn't regret the kiss, no. In fact, the kiss was very nice, and it was much more than she'd imagined their first kiss to be. Something felt so lovely and cozy on that bed, as Donnie held her in his arms while she nestled in his chest, and the kiss came quite naturally. It was just enough to be…perfect. But she knew they have to talk about it. Perhaps it was the talk that she was feeling anxious about. Or that she has to tell him about the research fellowship, with the possibility that she will be spending three months of summer with Tom.

Lizzie knew Donnie would not like that, at all. He was already wary of Tom, and she braced herself for what could only go from bad to worse.

. . . . . . .

"Hi, Lizzie."

Donnie was facing the door as Lizzie exited from her dorm building, and she was welcomed by his sweet smile under the bright spring sun. All the snow had melted by now, and it only left traces of glistening drops that reflected upon his twinkling blue eyes and golden mop of blond hair. The sight of him brought sudden and overwhelming warmth to her heart, and at the moment all she wanted to do was to run up to him and kiss him.

Donnie must've felt the same way as he walked over to her and kissed her, in amidst of all the ogling eyes of first year passer-byes. He cupped her face with his hands, and placed a sweet and tender kiss upon her, and she returned the kiss while holding onto his arms. His lips were warm and soft, and she felt as though by that kiss, Donnie was telling her he loved her.

"I missed you." Donnie whispered to her while lingering over her lips. And as he went for her lips again, Lizzie reluctantly turned her face, "There are people around us."

"I don't care." He chuckled and held her closer, but she resisted with a bashful smile, "Donnie, not here. I'm not going to be one of those people who brazenly make out in public."

"Oh, so you want to make out somewhere in private? Whatever you say, boss."

"Donnie…" Laughingly he let her go, "Come on, let's go grab some lunch. I brought my car so we could go out to town."

They walked to his car, which was parked in the back lot, behind the dorm building. But before Donnie could open the car door, Lizzie hesitantly spoke, "Donnie, we need to talk."

"Yeah, I know. I was thinking we could talk during lunch."

"No, I mean, yes, we do need to talk about…us, I mean, you and me. But, before that, there's something I need to tell you."

Donnie turned to face her, with alarm in his eyes, "What is it? Is everything alright?"

"It's nothing to be alarmed about. It's actually a bit of fantastic news. This summer, for three months, I've been accepted to a research fellowship. It is all expenses paid, with a stipend at the end, and it's from a very prestigious foundation."

"That's great! Lizzie, I'm so proud of you, that sounds like an amazing opportunity. I couldn't be more excited for you." Then Donnie gave her a warm embrace, of which she hesitantly accepted while knowing the conversation was not quite over.

"Donnie, I should tell you that the research fellowship is at the Naval Academy."

"Naval Academy? In Maryland? Wow, that already sounds prestigious. How in the world did you hear about this? Wait a minute…I know somebody from there…"

Lizzie saw realization quickly emerge in Donnie's eyes, and did not wait until he spoke of the inevitable. "It's Tom Keen. He submitted my application to the foundation. He's also part of the research fellowship."

She saw the slight squint of his eyes, and immediately knew that Donnie was at the initial point of slowly but surely reaching the unnecessarily overblown boiling point. He opened his mouth, but no words surfaced; this news certainly caught him off guard.

"Now, before you assume the worst of everything, you have to admit that this is a great opportunity for me. I know you and Tom are not exactly…buddies, but…"

"I can't stand him, and I don't trust him. And one of these days, I will punch that smug face of his."

"Donnie…" Lizzie had expected this reaction, but didn't think it'd get there this quick.

His eyes upon her were darkened with apprehension and incredulity. "I know exactly what he's doing. Lizzie, can't you see that he…is interested in you, and this is one of his schemes to get you away from here…away from me?"

"I'd like to believe I got accepted into the fellowship based on merit, and not because Tom pulled some strings for me because of some silly crush…" Lizzie couldn't help but to feel a pang of indignation at Donnie's implications, while knowing that she needed to remain absolutely calm for his sake.

"I'm not sure what the hell he did, but I wouldn't put it past him."

"Donnie, do you hear yourself? So, somehow Tom infiltrated into this prestigious foundation, possibly doctored some documents, orchestrated my admission, and of course, convinced some great minds…all to spend three months of summer with me. Then I need to give him more credit than I thought."

"Lizzie, don't make me sound like some jealous…boyfriend. I don't trust him, and I certainly don't trust him with you."

"You just have to let that go. Tom…he's not that bad of a guy. You two just started on a wrong foot."

"It wasn't the foot, it was more like his creepy ass."

"Donnie…"

"Lizzie, he's done nothing but to undermine…even at the New Year's party, I made it clear that I…"

"You what?"

"That I…had feelings for you, that we were at the party together. But he didn't respect that, if not, completely disregarded it. And not only that, he was clearly challenging me."

Lizzie bypassed the feelings part and noted it for another conversation. "Well, to be completely fair, you did kiss another girl."

"My point is, I can't trust someone who is that disrespectful, arrogant, dismissive of other's thoughts and feelings, self-seeking, calculating, manipulative…"

"Donnie, I get it. That's quite enough." At this point, Lizzie felt as though she could've easily walked away from this conversation. Donnie must've detected her agitation, and he softened his tone.

"Lizzie, I agree that this is a great opportunity for you, I get that. But you can't blame me for feeling protective over you." He paused before continuing, perhaps to collect courage. "I know this is completely unfair for me to say this, but I'm going to ask you to decline the fellowship. I can't, in clear conscience, let you go and spend an entire summer with Tom Keen."

"Donnie, you're right, it is unfair for you to ask me to do that. First of all, it's not a summer with him. You make it sound like we are off to the Hamptons to frolic on the beach, and just make out all day."

"Lizzie, can you not…"

"Donnie…I just…I just can't talk to you right now. You're only focused on this one person, whereas I'm trying to convince you of the whole picture. And obviously, we can't seem to agree on anything."

"Lizzie, please, I don't want to fight with you."

"I don't either. I'm going home tomorrow to talk to my dad about the research fellowship. I'll be at home for two days, so perhaps it's best if we talk then."

"Lizzie…"

"Donnie, I'll call you when I get back. See you." And with that, Lizzie quickly turned around and started her trek back to her dorm building, leaving Donnie behind standing by his car. He did not stop her, but perhaps it was good that he had not persisted, as tears were already rolling down on her face no matter how much she resisted.

. . . . . .

Lizzie woke up the next day feeling discontented and agitated, so much so that she took the earlier metro to home. She was anxious to see her dad, or more so eager to get out of the Academy surroundings. The argument with Donnie the day before had completely rattled her heart, especially when all she wanted was to be with him. Even that morning, she had fought back tears as she realized how much she had missed him already, and she hated this indescribable wedge that now existed between them. How does she make this right? What must she do?

During the metro ride, Lizzie's mind was solely occupied with Donnie that she had forgotten to call her dad that she had arrived two hours earlier. However, seeing that it was Saturday, Lizzie figured that her dad would just be hanging around in the garage, tooling with the latest project that will most likely remain unfinished. Lizzie took the taxi home from the metro station, and as she walked up the steps to the front door, she noticed a black Lincoln parked in her driveway. She figured her dad hadn't purchased a new car, thus there must be a visitor.

"Dad!" Lizzie called out as she entered the house, and walked to the kitchen as she detected some movement.

"Sweetheart, I didn't know you were coming early." Upon seeing Liz's face, her dad looked surprised, but his demeanor seemed uncharacteristically distressed, as if he was panicking. It took him a moment to gather himself and hug his daughter. "Welcome home, Lizzie. I've missed you."

"I missed you, too, dad. I missed home." Lizzie embraced her dad for good while, inhaling his familiar scent of musky aftershave and car oil. It was good to be home, and for a moment everything in the world seemed alright.

It wasn't until after their hug that Lizzie noticed a man sitting on the chair by the dining table. He was sharply dressed in a white dress shirt and a tan suit vest, with a grey fedora placed on the table. When Lizzie saw him, he returned with a faint but hesitant smile.

"Sweetheart, this is my friend, Ray." Lizzie glanced at her dad as he sounded positively unnerved. Perhaps she had interrupted some important conversation between these two men. She really should've called.

"Hello, nice to meet you." Lizzie politely offered a greeting, but felt bit embarrassed at the man's focused gaze upon her. His blue eyes were intense and piercing, as if he was examining her rather than meeting her for the first time.

"Hello, Lizzie, nice to meet you, too." Ray spoke slowly but deliberately, as if each word had a different meaning than she had perceived. Something about him was definitely an enigma, and Lizzie was surprised that such a man could be a friend of her dad's.

"How do you know each other?" She had posed the question to her dad, but Ray answered instead. In fact, her dad seemed to have taken a role of an observer now, sitting on a stool behind them, and allowing Ray to solely interact with Lizzie. She found this new dynamics quite strange and confusing.

"We are childhood friends. We met at grade school, and we've been friends since. Unfortunately my business keeps me from seeing him as often as I'd like."

"Oh, I see."

"Now, I hear that you're attending the FBI Academy at Quantico. How are your studies? I hear you're quite a scholar."

"Thank you, my studies are going well. There's a month of school left before the summer break."

"If you don't mind my asking, what do you intend to do after you graduate?" Ray had now folded his hands neatly on his lap, and with the slight tilt of his head, he seemed to be scrutinizing over her. Lizzie felt unnerved at how he was sizing her up. Who is this man?

"I'm specializing in criminology and field tactics. So, I'm hoping to become a field special agent."

"I'm sure you'll make a great agent, Lizzie." And he looked as if he was recollecting some distant memory, "I myself was a part of the law enforcement once."

"Oh? What happened?"

"You can say…I left it. We all have different reasons for what we do. And we all have different reasons for why we run and hide."

"I don't understand…"

"Oh, Lizzie, excuse me." Ray let out a hearty laughter, but his eyes remained as piercing, "All this must sound like jibberish to you, and it's because it is. Don't mind me, please."

Lizzie didn't know what to make of this exchange. She stood wordlessly, yet her focus never wavered from this man. She herself couldn't understand it, nor describe it; Ray was quite mesmerizing and she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"Well, Lizzie, I wish you all the luck with your studies and future endeavors. But I could already see that you have a bright future ahead of you, given all your connections." And with that, Ray stood from the chair and gathered his fedora. He expertly placed it upon his head and looked ahead to the front door.

"My connections?" Lizzie had hardly grasped what he's just said, but he was already out the door.

"Sam, thank you for your hospitality. I will keep in touch." Ray called out to her dad, before swiftly disappearing into the black Lincoln waiting for him. Apparently there was a driver in the car.

"Bye, Ray." Her dad mumbled into the air, but it was more to himself. His friend Ray didn't seem like a man particularly invested in pleasantries.

As they watched the black Lincoln drive off, Lizzie turned to her dad and uttered, "Dad, that was one of the strangest conversations I've ever had."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, he had intended to leave before you got here. You caught us by surprise."

"He is a strange one." Lizzie shook her head, "I can't believe you two are friends."

"Well, Lizzie…you'll see there's more to him than you think. You'll understand in time, I'm sure of it."

. . . . . .

That night, Lizzie talked to her dad about the research fellowship, to which he wholeheartedly agreed that it was a great opportunity. Although he did point out that she didn't need him to reach the obvious conclusion, Lizzie had secretly hoped that somehow he'll talk her out of it. She needed another opposing voice to firmly sway her rationale to turn down the fellowship, but it just didn't come to be. And during what was supposed to be the most exciting time of her life, Lizzie could only feel sadness seeping into her heart.

When Lizzie got back to the Academy, she called Donnie to let him know that she will be accepting the fellowship. Although he did try his best to sound unaffected, Lizzie knew him better than that. It broke her heart to hear how difficult it was for Donnie to mask disappointment and discouragement, and she may have changed her mind if he had asked her once more to not go. But he didn't try again. She didn't know how to apologize to him for being difficult, or making it difficult for him to be with her. For the first time, Lizzie clearly realized that Donnie had persisted so much for her, and vowed to make it easier for him, if she could.

During the last month of school, Lizzie hardly saw Donnie as both were consumed with the finals. The month went by quickly, and at last it was time for her leave for the Naval Academy. She was taking the flight out to Maryland with Tom, but Donnie had insisted on driving her to the airport. It's been nearly three weeks since she'd seen him, and when he came to pick her up, it was expectedly awkward with tension and unease. It felt as though they've wordlessly taken two steps back in their undefined relationship. They drove to the airport in near silence, and while she refused it, he insisted on accompanying her to the airport terminal entrance.

"Thanks, Donnie, for the ride. We should probably say goodbyes here, since we're boarding soon." Lizzie turned to Donnie as he handed her the bag that he'd been carrying for her. Donnie had spotted Tom inside the terminal already, looking upon the two as he waited for Lizzie. Donnie was sure he read a satisfied smirk on Tom's face.

"Sure. Umm…I hope you have a great time." Donnie spoke softly as he focused back on Lizzie.

"Thanks. What are you doing during the summer?"

"Same as what I always do. Summer courses at the Academy, and probably an internship for one of the professors."

They stood silently for a moment, both knowing what to say, but not how to say it. Lizzie timidly broke through the silence first. "Donnie, I'm…I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too, Lizzie." Donnie did not hesitate to respond, but the pain etched on his face had already expressed the sentiment before those words. His deep blue eyes looked over Lizzie, and in finality stated, "Well, then, goodbye, Lizzie. Take care of yourself."

"Yeah, you, too. Bye, Donnie. See you in three months." And with that, Lizzie turned to walk towards the terminal entrance. She saw Tom waiting for her on the other side, but she hadn't the heart to smile and greet him.

As Lizzie made her way to the terminal security, nothing about her steps seemed to emanate excitement. In fact, in the picture of absolute contrast, Lizzie couldn't deny how distraught she was feeling at the moment. That would be the last time she'd see Donnie for three months, and the last image of his dejected face absolutely shriveled her heart. Lizzie couldn't believe she had just walked away from him, leaving him there with all the hurt she'd caused him. She didn't deserve him, not one bit.

"Lizzie!" At the sound of her name shouted towards her way, Lizzie turned around abruptly to find the source. It was Donnie, who had run back and was now standing right in front of her.

"Lizzie, I just can't let you go without…I know this is a terrible timing, and maybe a terrible place to do it…I just should've told you earlier…" Donnie stammered slightly, but his eyes portrayed focus and determination.

"Lizzie, I want you to know that…I'm in love with you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember." He looked upon Lizzie for even a slightest reaction, but she remained speechless. "Lizzie, I can't think of a moment when I didn't love you, or when I didn't think about you, or when I didn't miss you."

"Now, I'm not saying this so you'll stay. I just…I just need you to know that before you go. I just want you to know, that's all."

"I love you, too." Lizzie didn't realize that was her own voice, and couldn't even explain where it came from, but in every faculty of her mind and heart, she was sure of it. Everything was now clear. Everything made sense now. If she was not sure about anything in her life, except for one, this was it. She was in love with Donnie, with all her heart.

"Uh, what?" It was as if Donnie didn't believe her, or trusted his own hearing.

"I love you. I love you, too." Lizzie let out a small smile, and saw realization and relief make its way onto Donnie's face. His mouth was agape, but soon a smile parted in shy elation.

"Oh, good." This was all he whispered before taking a step forward and pulling her into his arms, holding her as he kissed her tenderly. She in turn wrapped her arms around his neck, and returned his kiss, eagerly enjoying the taste of his soft lips and the sweet scent of his skin. She didn't care at all if they were standing in the milieu of strangers in that busy terminal. Lizzie wanted to kiss Donnie for as long as she could.

As they parted for a breath of air, Lizzie whispered against his lingering lips, "Will you wait for me?" To which he replied, "Of course, I'll wait for you. I love you." And as she reached up to kiss him, everything around them, all the sights and sounds, gradually became blurred to inconsequential oblivion.

. . . . . . .

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the support for this little story! Truly appreciate all of you guys! Sorry it took awhile to update, school is keeping me busy. Don't you hate it when real life interferes with your preferred life? Jeesh, the nerve of that RL…**

**And OMG…the Cypress Agency episode…JAW TO THE FLOOR…first of all, YOU GO LIZZIE…poor Ress, that's an unfortunate leg…great villain…return of Mr. Kaplan…and Red the badass…I'm still in shock. GREAT EPISODE…**


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